On Friday, whilst the ladies are oohing and ahhing over Kate's dress, the gentlemen are assembled in Jonny Osborne's garden putting up a shed, drinking, staring out over the channel and oohing and ahhing over Pippa. A bit later my brother - a trained chef no less - fires up the barbie and spends the rest of the afternoon flipping burgers and turning sausages. This tastiness is later supplemented by John Ashton who seemingly keeps pulling braces of poussin out of his pocket. I still need a couple bowls of my mum's chilli when we get home, mind...
The following day is another scorcher, so we head out in the sun for a trip to Howletts with my mum, Danny, Dylan and Michaela. I'd like to say Milo was well into the tigers and snow leopard, but in fact he was only interested in the elephants and the gorillas. With our monkey in bed, full of ice creams, picnics and macaroni cheese, we swing over to Clokey & Liz's for curry. And loads of silly booze, *obvs*.
Sunday is infinitely more relaxed: Mum takes Milo to mini rugby, Ana packs and I fix dad's laptop, before heading to Sandgate for fish and chips on the beach. Brilliantly not only does Dad almost manage to fall into the mighty rolling ocean, he manages to split his trousers trying to escape a soaking.
Knackered, slightly sun-burned and with an emergency Nanny-rinsing stop-off at Baby Gap, we head home, laden down with left-over chilli for tea. Hurrah for Nanny!
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