I was minding my own business, eating a cookie in my bedroom, when the phone rang. Mum yelled up from the kitchen,

'KERRY! GET THE PHONE!!!'

So I yelled to my older brother Dan, who I guessed was in hisbedroom which was next door to mine,

'DAN! YOU HEARD HER! GET THE PHONE!'

So then he yelled to our older sister Caitlin, who was in her bedroom across the hall,

'CAITLIN! PHONE'S RINGING!'

So then of course she yelled to my youngest brother Titch (his real name is Michael, but when we started to call him Mike it turned into Mitch and then, cause he's so small, Titch)

'TITCH! PHONE!'

And as Titch had no one else to yell to (there's only four kids in our family including myself) he shuffled over to the phone, just as it stopped ringing. It went on to our answer machine. We have the strangest answer phone message in the world. It goes something like this:

'Hi, we're not available right now so if you Jerry? Have you put the pizza in the oven? Not now, Wendy, I'm doing an answering machine message thing! It's important! Dad? I've lost my homework, I think Titch ate it. KERRY! What are you doing with my best lipstick! Muuum! Is dinner ready yet? Er... As I was saying, if you leave your name and your number Daddy? Who are you talking to? Can I speak? Not right now, Michael, no! Don't snatch! (Lots of clattering) Sorry about that, my son ... DAAAAD! I can't find my homework! It's for tomorrow! Darling! We need to make tea and if the pizza isn't ready we're going to have another late night and you know, Michael gets tired and you don't want Daniel falling asleep in class again Mum! I did not fall asleep in class! It's called THINKING with your eyes closed, OK? It's what philosophers do. Mummy? I don't get tired! I'm never tired! I NEVER EVER fall asleep, even when you think I am. We're having pizza again! That's the third time this week! Kerry! Give me that make-up bag NOW or so help me I will ...'

And then the line goes dead. I think we ran out of memory. As you can see, it's not an ordinary message. I will try and translate for you, as I was sitting on the sofa next to Dad who was trying to record it so I know what was going on...:

Dad (looking businesslike and important): 'Hi, we're not available right now, so if you,'

Mum (from ironing behind the sofa): 'Jerry? Have you put the pizza in the oven?'

Dad: 'Not now Wendy, I'm doing a ...'

Me (proudly): ''n Answer machine message thing. It's important!'

Caitlin (coming into the room): 'Dad? I've lost my homework,'

Me: 'I think Titch ate it.'

Caitlin (after glancing in my direction): 'KERRY! What are you doing with my best lipstick?!'

Dan (yelling from the stairs): 'Muuum, is dinner ready yet?'

Dad (going back to the message): 'Er... As I was saying, if you leave your name and your number,'

Titch (who had been playing with his action men on the floor): 'Daddy? Who are you talking to? Can I speak?'

Dad: 'Not right now, Michael,'

Titch stands up and grabs the phone off him.

Dad: 'No! Don't snatch!'

Dad tries to get the phone back but in the struggle they drop it, hence the clattering. Dad eventually wins.

Dad: 'Sorry about that! My son ...'

Caitlin (after having an argument with me in the background - I had been experimenting with painting my face with her make-up): 'DAAAD! I can't find my homework! It's for tomorrow!'

Mum (from behind a mountain of clothes): 'Darling! We need to make tea and if the pizza isn't ready we're going to have another late night and you know, Michael gets tired and you don't want Daniel falling asleep in class again!'

Dan (coming down the stairs): 'Mum! I did not fall asleep in class! It's called THINKING with your eyes closed, OK? It's what philosophers do.'

Titch (from on top of Dad's head): 'Mummy? I don't get tired! I'm never tired! I NEVER EVER fall asleep, even when you think I am.'

Caitlin (groaning): 'We're having pizza again! That's the third time this week! Kerry! Give me that make-up bag NOW or so help me I will ...'

I can't remember what she said she would do because at that point Dad yelled,

'SHUT UP!' as loudly as he could so we all went silent. Then he tried to erase the first attempt for the message but couldn't figure out how to do it. It was then we realised what people would hear every time we weren't in when they phoned us.

I laughed so hard I fell off the sofa. Caitlin looked horrified in case one of her ever changing boyfriends tried to ring and got greeted with that version of her – yelling her head off at (ha ha) me and going on about homework. (She tries to pretend that she doesn't care about school but actually she's really smart.) Mum looked slightly amused, but she didn't mind because she had been sounding like a responsible parent in the message anyway, trying to organise dinner. Dan didn't care. He never cares, really.

The funniest person was Dad. For a week and a half he barely went out in case someone rung him. He stayed in so he could answer the phone and no one would know about the message. But after a while even he agreed it was pointless, and so even though since then we have been getting some interesting comments on our answering machine, it's been OK.

So I heard Titch shuffling from his tiny bedroom onto the landing and I heard him picking up the phone.

''Ello? ... Yes. ... I don't know. ... No. ... She's ugly. ... OK. Bye."

Curious, I left my comfortable bed and wandered into the landing. Titch was shuffling back to his room, wearing his Postman Pat pyjamas and a pair of mum's fluffy socks, even though it was two in the afternoon.

"Hey, Titch – who was that?" I asked. He turned round and stared at me.

"I don't know. She said she was from Poot magazine or something. Wanted to know if Caitlin wanted to enter a modelling final. I think. I said no and when she asked why I said because Caitlin was ugly." At this I heard a shriek from the room next to us. My sixteen-year old sister burst out, wearing a mud-mask and her dressing gown. Her hair was in a towel, twisted into a turban. And she was screaming.

"TI – MICHAEL! THAT MUST HAVE BEEN THE EDITOR OF POUT MAGAZINE!"

We kids only called Titch by his real name, Michael, when we were really annoyed with him. This didn't sound good. He was backing away, looking scared and sucking his thumb. I jumped to his defence.

"Shut up, Caitlin! What did he do wrong?"

This time she rounded on me.

"What did he do WRONG? ONLY LOSE ME THE BIGGEST OPPURTUNITY OF MY LIFE!"

By this time Dan had come out of his room to see what the chaos was about.

"God, Caitlin, shut up! I can't hear my music."

"OK! Stop getting angry with me! That was the editor of Pout on the phone. You know; the third biggest fashion magazine in the whole of Britain?"

We looked at her blankly.

"Whatever. A month ago I entered a modelling competition. You had to send in a photo and top twenty prettiest looking girls were selected. I was selected! So I got a letter saying that the editor would call me and tell me the secret date and place of the final between me and the other nineteen girls. If I won the final, then I would be on the front cover of the magazine on the month of my choice, have a fashion photo shoot done of me in the latest designer gear and get a £500 gift voucher on all of Pout's products. Then guess what? Titch answers the phone, and blows it all! All of it! My big chance! Because who knows? Being the cover model of a magazine like Pout doesn't mean it ends there. I would become a celebrity! Probably be asked to model more clothes, and be on more covers. I could get a career as a model! And what does Titch do? Say that I am ugly. To the editor! So I will be out of the competition now and the girl that sent in the twenty-first best photo will be in."

And with that speech she flounced back into her room.