Don't worry, the report from my afternoon tea is not too bad. About 950 calories left for tea at Claridges (as it turned out to be), so I am probably a bit over for the day but not much. Was very very strong willed at work and didn't eat any of the nibbles remaining from yesterday, nor of the box of chocolate shortcake biscuits and box of jaffa cakes someone brought in today. Just one small square of plain chocolate, which I'm trying to forget about.

Arrive at Claridges. The waiters don't offer to take our coats but Bestie (who has class) hands hers over anyway and so do I and we get a cloakroom ticket in a little envelope (see pic) and we sit down and I'm pleased to say the waiters put the napkins on our laps for us which gets anywhere extra points from me.

Tea is very nice, all the more so because Bestie's paying. (I did take her to the Ritz a few weeks back if you remember). We have sandwiches and scones and clotted cream and jelly and little cakes and Bestie doesn't eat her share of the cakes (not quite) but I eat the bits she doesn't - look, they are TINY, ok - and we have three pots of Earl Grey between us.

The room is sort of 30s and the china is green and cream stripes and the teapot's handle is a funny shape and a bugger to pour from and there is a lady playing the piano and a gentleman with a double bass and there are lots of waiters milling around.

As we drink our tea, we are fascinated because behind Bestie's chair is a counter with jars of sweets on. She has her back to it and can't see, she can only hear but I can see that as people are leaving they are filling paper bags full of sweets. Sort of goody bags to take home. And some of those bags are very very full indeed.

This sort of thing always interests me a lot.

So anyway we get the bill or at least Bestie does, and the waiter gives us each a little mini tin of tea which is v. nice and we ask if we may help ourselves to sweets from the jars and he makes us free of them.

I'm a good packer, you know, and can get a lot of sweets in a bag. This I do. So does Bestie, to give them to Mr Bestie when she gets home. I drop one on the floor and put it in my pocket (just to remind everyone that you can't take me anywhere). I add some mint balls but Bestie doesn't want those. I fish out the chocolate umbrella (we only get one of those each) and on the way out I hand over my bag of sweets to Bestie because I don't want to eat loads of sweets and she can either feed them to Mr Bestie or to Hallowe'en monsters or both if she's not sure which is which.

I also warn her Mr Bestie shouldn't consider the mint balls to imply a compliment and she tells me she'll tell him that I definitely said they WERE intended as a compliment. Troublemaker.

In the UK mint can mean mint flavoured. It can also mean perfect, special, just what I wanted.

'Mint balls.'

Just think about this . . . I am not going to explain it to you.