Jono and Milly spend the first few days of their family holiday reminiscing about the all-nighters they used to pull at Amnesia when they were last in Ibiza 20 years ago.
"We were club pioneers. Mum danced in one of those cages in her bikini and in the morning they asked if she wanted a permanent slot," says Jono proudly. "And I wore a pair of orange trousers with gold stars and had pretend nipple rings from the tops of Red Bull cans."
"Stop, Dad, please," begs their 18-year-old daughter Gaby.
"That was the evening Pete Tong and Danny Rampling were guest DJs," Milly reminds Jono. "It was an historic occasion."
"Historic? It's hardly like Nelson Mandela being released from prison or the Northern Ireland peace accords, is it?" says Gaby.
"I never had you down as a raver," observes Henrietta, who is more accustomed to her best friend from the school run analysing important topics such as whether you can revise for the Eton entrance exam or if Net-a-Porter has ever let her down.
The teenagers announce they're going out in Ibiza Town later.
"Where are you off to?" asks Jono.
"Pacha," says Gaby.
"We were in Pacha when DJ Pippi was spinning," says Jono.
"Don't they have age restrictions?" asks Henrietta.
"You have to be under 40," warns Gaby.
But her parents aren't listening and 15 minutes later they appear at the table dressed in the same Ibiza gear they last wore 20 years ago. Jono's expanding waistline means that his sleeveless t-shirt resembles one of Gaby's crop tops. Milly has sprayed her torso gold, which hides a multitude of sins.
"Kill me now," pleads Gaby.
"It's all gone Pete Tong," enthuses Milly. "When are we leaving?"
"In a couple of hours," says Henrietta's son. "Nothing kicks off till midnight."
"So true," says Jono.
One hour later Jono and Milly are downing Red Bulls to stay awake. When midnight strikes, Gaby finds them sound asleep on a couple of sun loungers by the pool.
"There is a God," she whispers, as she creeps out of the front door with her mates.