Snappy September - Day Sixteen - Ladies Only

Poor old Love Chunks was shown the door.

"Dad, thanks for all your help getting all the ingredients and tins down from the top cupboard and everything, but it's an afternoon tea party for ladies, so, um, can you find something else to do?"

Grabbing his tennis racquet to join his mate Daniel for a couple of hours of bashing and crashing he did so, vowing that he'd keep his tears of sorrow and betrayal repressed and hidden until he returned home after her party.

Sapphire had been planning it for weeks. The invitations were sent out saying (in fancy floral lettering she'd found on the 'net and all her words): 'You are cordially invited to join me for an afternoon tea on Sunday at 2.30pm sharp. Refreshments will be provided and fancy dress is mandatory.'

There were tea cups, doilies, sprigs of lavender, individualised place cards, fresh flowers and the ancient bird-poo splattered chairs were hidden under some crepe paper. Even Milly, as a furry female attendee, had to match the decor of the day:

Sapphire had collected recipes and road-tested her final selections last weekend, deciding on Grandma's cup cakes, my old Golden Circle Cookie Book melting moments and the raspberry slice clipped from Better Homes and Gardens.

When tennis finished on Saturday morning the rest of the day was spent blending, rolling, baking, icing, slicing, cleaning and styling. Love Chunks and I left her to it; allowing ourselves to be summoned whenever something was indecipherable ('Mum, what does Grandma mean here?') or out of reach ('Dad are the sprinkles up on the top shelf there behind the polenta?'). I could literally see the spirit and DNA of my own mother in motion as my daughter sang, ticked things off her 'to do' list and called out every now and then with, "Hey Mum, take a look at this!"

Finally, Sunday afternoon arrived. With ten minutes to spare, I put the kettle on (raspberry tea, green tea and peppermint were the order of the day) and the hostess placed Chopin on replay on the iPod docking station before taking a moment to reflect and remind me that I'd promised to wear a skirt and some mascara and should hurry up and do so.

Love Chunks rang my mobile. "I just hope she realises that her friends might not notice all the work she's done and that she should just enjoy it and not worry too much," he fretted.

The guests - sorry, Ladies - had arrived. Juliet looking as if she was ready for Ladies Day at Flemington racecourse; Tara about to take her poodle for a walk along Fifth Avenue in the 1930s, Phoebe to teach 'The Wind in the Willows' to her Edwardian school class and Sarah ready to belt out a song in a seedy Berlin nightclub. They'd all gone to such an effort but would they let me take a photo of them at the start? No!

It was only at the very end - all high on sugar and life, I was allowed to snap them with shoes off, smeared lipstick and big grins on their beautiful faces.

As instructed, I kept a very low profile and meddled not at all but couldn't have been more proud of her.