Spare knickers

This is how we eneded up at Jen's hen, so I dread to think what's in store for me.


So I received my hen do invite in the post the other day, lovingly put together by my Best Girls.

It was plastered in deeply unflattering photos of myself which didn't bode well. And it couldn't reveal too much, as there is more plotting, scheming and secrecy than an episode of Spooks. But it did give me a very basic outline of the weekend including a list of things I may need.

And what a truly bizarre list. Amongst the items I apparently require are:

A red or yellow t-shirt.
Face wipes.
A boot with a heel or trainers.
Swimming costume.
Two pairs of pants.
A mars bar.

I mean what kind of list is that? Why have they requested I bring two pairs of pants? Will I be soiling one of them? And a swimming costume? Does that mean I have to do my bikini line?!? And what's really throwing me is the 'boot with a heel or trainers' request. As footwear go, they couldn't be further apart. What possible activity is there on this planet that can be undertaken in either a heel or a pair of Asics?!?

I am genuinely confused. And every time I speak to one of the hens they cryptically tell me that they are doing 'hen chores'. It's as if they are all physically building a venue.

And why why WHY do I need a mars bar!??!?!