A funny old weekend

It has, to misquote Arkwright, been a funny old weekend.

How Ridiculous was graced by a visitation from Mother, Brother and a cousin on Saturday.

Lunch was partaken at a Chinese restaurant close to Leicester Square. How Ridiculous has a tremendous affection for it - its walls are covered with portraits of Communist leaders and there amongst them is a portrait of the late Princess of Wales.

Sadly, How Ridiculous's party were not tabled under Diana but rather under Karl Marx which made HR think of Kitty's remark about the pants dropping off but the broccoli being faultless; but we digress.

After lunch, we proceeded to take a trip through Soho. Imagine how disconcerted How Ridiculous was to turn round and find Mother had tripped and was flat out in a gutter in Old Compton Street, a feat not achieved by How Ridiculous - yet.