Recently, something strange has happened to me. I’ve started liking chocolate.

I’ve always liked chocolate – I mean, if you offer me some I’ll happily take it, and when I eat it I’m constantly surprised at how good it actually tastes. But recently it’s gone further than that. My chocolate-desire is at levels that I’d more normally associate with Gill. I’ve found myself lying in bed, trying to get to sleep, and suddenly realising that what I really need is chocolate. It’s even more compelling than Halva.

This all came to a head at the end of my trip to Amsterdam. There I was in the airport, with time to kill, and for the first time ever I didn’t feel the need to fill my house with more varieties of alcohol that I’ll probably never drink but definitely regret if I do. Instead, I bought three large bars of chocolate – some premium Lindt, milk chocolate with hazelnuts for me and Gill, white chocolate for the kids, and then another bar of cheaper but ever-so-slightly larger (all bars were around half a kilo) choc with hazelnuts for me to eat “on the journey”. And not only have I polished most of these off, I’ve even been eating the kids’ stuff.

This feels like an incipient addiction.

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