When I was sixteen, I was pretty enormous.

Forget stones or pounds, or even kilograms, I’m not quite tall enough to carry it properly if I’m overweight. I – sort of – bunch up.

I don’t suit being too thin either, but excess hangs upon me like bonfire smoke. Either way, it isn’t good.

Anyway, when I was seventeen, I gave up soft drinks and took up coffee. When I started drinking coffee, as I’m sure I’ve already mentioned, I drank it with seven sugars per cup. I had an outrageous sweet-tooth. I don’t think that really needs saying, but there – I’ve said it.

After a few weeks, I got used to the usual flavour of coffee and worked my way down to one sugar. I know. Success.

One sugar, and about half a packet of garibaldis.

A dunked garibaldi is a thing of joy, and fully deserving of a place in #365HappyDays.