My brother-in-law is staying with me for a couple of nights this week, as he’s doing a part-time Masters course at Glasgow Uni. He’s been up a couple of times before, and it’s good to see him, but I’m starting to worry that I’m a poor host.

See, I don’t really have a spare bedroom, since it’s an office. And while I did recently tidy up considerably, there’s still not quite enough room to put down the futon. So poor Matty has to sleep in the lounge, with its draughty bay window.

Then there’s the futon itself. Which is… well, it’s old. And somewhat compacted. It has, in fact, been compared to foldable concrete, though the ‘foldable’ part is moot.

It’s so notorious that my dear brother-in-law last night confessed that he’s booked a session with the osteopath for the day he returns to Leeds.