The excitement is mounting in British Gurkhas Nepal because the social event of the year is upon us tomorrow: The BGN Ball at the Hyatt Hotel. We are all very, very excited. Especially me. Not because of the ball, you understand, but because we have booked ourselves into the Hyatt for the night, woo-hoo, and we have a late checkout the following day.
Some very nice friends have been persuaded to house-sit. Our home is a fairly attractive prospect as we have generator power and hot water, which is what I think sold the idea to them. It probably wasn’t the prospect of cleaning up Twin 2’s nappies, anyway. They are bringing their three kids along for a sleepover, so it will probably be absolute mayhem. Must make sure I buy them some chocolates or something to make up for the stress of a six-child-pajama-party. Will chocolates be sufficient, I wonder? Perhaps ketamine would be more appropriate.
I’m having all the grey bits in my hair covered up with subtle gold streaks tomorrow (well, that’s the plan) in readiness. I also have a gorgeous ball dress, which only took Sunil about six months to make (he’s getting faster), and the fact that I’m a bit on the porky side at the moment can only be a good thing when wearing a strapless bra underneath, if you know what I mean.
Apparently there is some surprise entertainment organised after dinner. I’m hoping it’s not organised ball dancing a la Burns Night, or anything scary like that.
Incidentally, on the admin instruction (yes, it’s an army thing, a straightforward invitation would be way too simple, so we have to have two-pages of joining instructions for the event), there was an exhortation for people to have fun, but not bring the army into disrepute in the process. I wonder if this could possibly be any reference to Hubby’s bare-bottom-stiletto-spanking antics at Burns Night?
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