Sweeter things in life are not so sweet after all

In my teens and early twenties it was nicotine and anything in a shot glass which fuelled my misdemeanours.

Then, as I acquired a mortgage and my mildly intolerant girlfriend became my disapproving wife, I relied upon single malt and lamb bhunas to get me through the working week.

Now that I am a fully paid-up member of the schoolgate mafia, with more of an interest in the FTSE 100 rather than the Top 40, it is social media, caffeine and, most importantly, sugar which enable me to put one foot in front of the other.

Every day, like clockwork, I find myself in danger of grinding to a shuddering halt at precisely 11am.

It is then that I reach for my trusty rucksack and, carefully avoiding the week-old banana, I rummage for my lunch.

Although finishing one’s DairyLea and cucumber sarnies well before noon is never the most prudent option, it is dessert which makes this potential schoolboy error worthwhile.

Be it a Club biscuit, Penguin, four-fingered Kit Kat or, if I am feeling particularly decadent, a Curly Wurly, I always feel energised after the obligatory chocolatey treat.

Very rarely do I reach for fizzy pop or what the suits at Westminster now describe, in an out-of-touch dad kind of way, as sugary drinks.

Since last week’s Budget we have been subjected to many statistics about our consumption of all things sweet and, if those figures are to be believed, less than 20 per cent of our sugar consumption comes from soft drinks which means there is a long way to go if we are to tackle the growing problem of obesity.

Maybe it is time for the Government to legislate that particularly nasty sweet stuff carries images of what sugar can do to your body – rather like we see on the side of cigarette packets?

Can’t see it happening myself but I am unsure if even that would put me off my lunchtime treat.