One day, when I was around seven, I was round at my friend Tony Attwood’s house. We had been playing up in his bedroom with his Action Man and Dinky cars. After a while, though, we got a bit bored. That was when we started jumping up and down on his bed.
Needless to say, our behaviour soon attracted the attention of Tony’s mum, who came upstairs to see what on earth was going on. This happened to more or less coincide with a crunch caused by one of us (I was convinced it wasn’t me) as one of the bed frame’s wooden cross beams gave way.