Choc!

I have a sad relationship with chocolate. The sad bit is not how much I love it or, more specifically, the first few mouthfuls, it's the fact that once I've started eating it, I find it near impossible to stop. I can sit in a roomful of people - usually my children - eating chocolate and I'm fine as long as I don't have a single bite. But after that, all bets are off!

Perhaps the low point of my chocolate eating career was one Christmas, many years ago. The rest of the family had gone out, probably for a walk, and I was left on the sofa with a new Iain Banks novel and a nearly full tin of Roses nearby. I ate the lot. The first few were delicious and enjoyable but then I found I was eating them mechanically. After a while, I would have to wait for a mild nausea to subside before I could have the next one.

I say that was the low point but that is far from the truth. It was the first time that I plumbed a low to which I have returned many times subsequently. These days, though, I'm much better at not getting started. Just say no!

I nearly made it through this Easter with no chocolate but my son, Dan, gave me a Mars bar and the Minx gave me a small chocolate rabbit. It seemed churlish not to have them, so I did. And then I ate a spare Easter egg that had been left in the house :-(