A den under the stairs

This might just be a very short series of shots highlighting some of the similarities between my childhood and my offspring's (See first of the series).

I have so many memories of hiding behind the hoover in the cupboard under the stairs with my cousin, hoping my sister wouldn't find us. Also taking a torch to the same cupboard and reading blissfully alone for ages. Luckily our under stairs hole doesn't have a door with a latch, else first born might be tempted to lock second born in there when he's had enough of her. Did I do that to my sister. No. Never. Not even once. Honest.