Tymek lives on the eighth floor, in a block of flats. In the morning, the tea smelled and the toaster light winked. Mum calmly said: - Quick, breakfast is getting cold! Suddenly the toast popped, fell on the table and sighed. Timothy heard a quiet voice: - Ow, hot in the oven! He looked at the slice and froze. She really had spoken, and quite clearly. - Give it butter, but don't tickle it with the knife - he asked the toast. - And strawberry jam, but without the seeds, please nicely. Tymek snorted with laughter and handed him a spoon. The toast crunched and purred and suddenly jumped off the plate. - I'm off into the world, I'm going to see the staircase, the lift and the roof! He left buttery footsteps and the cat Pod followed him. Doughnut was mewling and sliding around the kitchen. Tymek ran with a cloth, calling out: - Stop, munchkin! Toast jumped into the backpack and pretended to be a school sandwich. Tymek pulled on his shoes, went out into the corridor with his mother. Mrs Krysia sniffed the air and glanced at the ceiling. - Do they make toast here? - She asked with a very serious face. The backpacker giggled in such a way that the lock jumped up by itself. The lift doors slid open slowly, and then.... and a long, very hungry crunch sounded inside!