My sister stayed for a few days last week, which was great.  It was good to have some ‘normal sister’ time, not that we’re anything but normal.

After tea last Saturday we decided to go out for an hour or so to a local pub that was within walking distance.

We didn’t try very hard with our appearances (well I didn’t) and just threw some comfy clothes on. I didn’t even bother to tidy my hair. 

Unless I wash my hair the words ‘tidy’ and ‘hair’ just don’t mix.  I can’t just rub a bit of gel or whatever fancy hair product into dry hair and get it to magically transform into an uber style.

Think more of that advert from years ago with Napoleon saying ‘not tonight Josephine’ when her hair looks completely messed up.  (Actually can anyone remember what the advert was for?)

We both put our macs on, again, mine being less glamorous than sis’s.  (She had shiny buttons on hers - oooohhhh!)

For some reason this simple act transformed us into detectives.  Yes I know make believe should be left behind in childhood, but we had the sillies on.  My son even made us badges!

As sis had the shiny buttons she was the Detective Inspector, I was the sidekick.  Think Lewis to Morse.  We had torches each (due to the fairly dark road), and I (I can’t believe I’m going to share this) took a little flip top notebook and pen.

Oh yes and our accents also changed to East End London. 

This simple, childish act had us in fits of laughter as we walked down the road, stopping to make notes on events that were happening around us, which basically consisted of two firework bangs in the distance.

You’ll be pleased to know that there was no crime that night, apart from our dress sense!