>This weekend I took part in a hen night for my lovely friend Lisa – and a big thanks to the other Lisa for organising it. We took a limo to Norwich – I confess, I’m not a limo fan at all – but then it turned up and was not just your average Lincoln towncar, but a Range Rover! By this point the champagne cockatils were flowing anyway so to be honest I wouldn’t have cared if it was a seicento.

So, to explain the rubber duck thing……… the boys of our social circle have a little game that involves a golf ball and drinking (!). One golf ball is available and if it is put into your drink while you’re holding it, you have to drink your drink in one. Yes, in one. If however your drink is on the table the person who did the dunking has to drink their own drink in one.

Now, this is clearly a game built for men. However some bright spark decided we should do it, but with a rubber duck. And the rules changed vastly – if the duck was in your drink, that was it – down the neck it went. I believe I was ‘ducked’ about 7 times and most of those were cocktails. At times the duck would be in your drink before it was even delivered to you. And then the nasty people behind the bar stole him! After much arguing (read: Rachel shouting at the barmaid) he was returned.

Now – children – this sort of drinking is not big and not clever. The duck game should not be repeated. I vaguely recall getting home in the limo (covering myself and the leather interior in Corona somehow) but little else. A big thanks to the other half for putting up with the state that I was in yesterday! There would be pictures, but they are that repulsive I care not to show them.

Thanks to all the girls for a cracking weekend – the stag do is on Friday and coincidentally I’ll be at the same place for a different occasion, so methinks a few golf balls will be coming with me to cause chaos…………

I wont go into how