LITMIR.BIZ

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colouring pens were not as important as passports and underwear and important family treasures.

      I put all my things on my bed in little piles, like Mum does. We were going to the seaside for six days. I thought very hard about it. I had six pants, six pairs of socks, six T-shirts, two pairs of shorts, one dress, one pair of jeans and two jumpers. I had my swimsuit and my goggles and my dress that’s really a towel. I had my book and my pencil case and my toothbrush and a pack of cards and some yellow sunglasses and a hat with spots on. I did have colouring pens because you never know when you might need to draw a picture. I didn’t have my passport because Dad keeps it safe and I didn’t have any important family treasures either, but I was all ready to pack.

      Iggy came into my room.

      “What are you doing?” she said.

      She was twiddling her hair. Twiddling hair is Iggy language for I’m-stuck-and-I-need-help. Iggy has lots of ways of telling you what she is thinking.

      She rubs her eyes with her fists when she is tired. Her eyebrows turn bright pink when she is going to cry.

      She points when she is cross.

      Her mouth goes thin and white when she is angry.

      She stretches her arms and points her toes when she is starting to get bored.

      And when she is excited about something that’s going to happen she does a little dance with just her hands.

      “What are you doing?” she said again, hair-twiddling.

      “I’m packing my bag,” I said.

      “What are you putting in your packing?” she said.

      I showed her all the piles of things on my bed.

      “That’s a lot of stuff,” she said, and she stretched her arms over her head and pointed her toes.

      “Do you want help with yours?” I said.

      Iggy shook her head. “I’ve done my packing,” she said. “And Barnaby’s done his.”

      “What did you pack?” I said.

      Iggy counted on her fingers. “Gloria and Mumble and Polly and Ranger,” she said.

      Gloria and Mumble and Polly and Ranger are four of Iggy’s best and biggest teddies. They would fill her whole rucksack in a flash.

      “What else?” I said.

      Iggy shrugged. “Nothing,” she said. “No room.”

      I said, “What about pants and socks and T-shirts and shorts and your swimsuit?”

      “I’m wearing them,” Iggy said.

      I looked at Iggy more carefully. She was looking a bit lumpy.

      “All of them?” I said.

      “Don’t be silly,” Iggy said. “I can’t wear all of them.”

      “OK.”

      “I can only fit four,” Iggy said.

      She was wearing four pants and two pairs of shorts. She was wearing four T-shirts and a vest and two pairs of socks. She had her swimsuit on all the way underneath.

      “What happens if you need a wee?” I said.

      “Why?”

      “You’ll have to take all of it off.”

      “Why?”

      “Because your swimsuit is in the way.”

      Iggy thought for a minute. “I don’t need a wee,” she said.

      “You will,” I said.

      “Ssssh,” Iggy said. “I don’t need one.”

      “Have you got your toothbrush?” I said.

      Iggy nodded. “In my pocket.”

      “Have you got your sunhat?”

      She smiled and showed me. “Other pocket.”

      Iggy had nearly thought of everything.

      “Have you got a book and some pens and a game and a pair of sunglasses?”

      “No,” Iggy said. “I can’t fit them anywhere. Can I share yours?”

      Just then, Mum came into the room.

      “Are you all packed?” she said, and I said, “Nearly,” and Iggy said, “Yes.”

      Mum looked at Iggy. She looked at her once and then she looked again.

      “Why do you look lumpy?” Mum said.

      Iggy smiled like she had a secret she was very proud of.

      “What have you got on?” Mum said.

      “She’s wearing her packing,” I told her.

      “What does that mean?” Dad said, coming into the room behind Mum.

      Iggy twiddled her hair again. She took her sunhat out of her pocket and put it on.

      Dad looked at Iggy and frowned.

      “What are you hiding about your person?”

      “Nothing,” Iggy said. “I haven’t got a person. I’ve got Barnaby and he’s got his own suitcase and his clothes are too small for me anyway.”

      Mum lifted up Iggy’s T-shirt and found another T-shirt, and then another one, and then another one, and then her swimsuit.

      Mum pulled at Iggy’s shorts and found another pair, and four pairs of pants, and even more swimsuit.

      “Well I never,” said Dad.

      “What happens if you need a wee?” Mum said.

      Iggy crossed her legs. “Don’t talk about it,” she said.

      “You’re a human suitcase,” Dad said, and Iggy pointed at him.

      “No I’m not,” she said.

      “At least if you fall over on holiday, you won’t hurt yourself,” he said. “You’re all nice and padded.”

      Mum said, “Why aren’t you using your rucksack?”

      “It’s full,” Iggy said. “It’s all full up.”

      “With what?” Mum said.

      “Gloria and Mumble and Polly and Ranger,” Iggy told her.

      “The four horsemen of the apocalypse,” Dad said.

      “No, silly,” Iggy said. “They’re not horses. They are two penguins and a polar bear and a dog.”

      “You’re right,” Dad said. “Yes they are. And they’re not coming on holiday with us.”

      “Why not?” Iggy said.

      “Because they are two penguins and a polar bear and a dog.”

      “Penguins and polar bears like the sea,” I said.

      “And dogs like the beach,” Iggy added.

      “They won’t like this beach,” Dad said, “because they’re not coming.”

      Iggy’s eyebrows went pink. “We can’t leave them at home,” she said. “Barnaby won’t have any friends on holiday if we do that.”

      “Yes we can,” said Dad, and Iggy’s eyebrows got pinker and pinker.

      “I see,” Mum said.

      “See what?” Dad said.

      “The problem,” Mum said.

      “They want to come too,” Iggy said. “They really want to.”

      “Oh dear,” said Mum.

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