A Christmas tradition back at home has always been the big tin of Quality Street. As kids we all anticipated hungrily the day when the tin would be opened and then we could descend upon it like a pack of locusts and consume everything therein, apart from the horrible ones with the green wrapper - what were they? Cracknell or montelimar or something. They have slowly phased out some of the less popular chocolates, though now there is a coconut based one that would take the crown. I don't know if Quality Street has some ingredient like heroin that makes it impossibe to stop eating them, or whether we were just starved of chocolate at other times or if I was just a greedy child but I would eat until I was full and then carry on and on.
Even as an adult I have found it hard to stop myself gorging on this very specific brand of chocolates ar Christmas time, encouraging my nephews and nieces to do likewise and then hide the wrappers down the side of the sofa so no one would know what we had done. For a while. Until they looked in the tin or moved the sofa cushions.
At least with other hungry mouths to feed there was some limit to my intake. I had never bought a tin for my own home, knowing that if left alone with that much chocolate I would be like a caramel guzzling goldfish and just keep eating until i exploded.
But tonight on the way home from gig 2 of the tour (about 150 in - a bit of a hard first half where I thought I performed it well, but found it difficult to connect, followed by a much more successful second half) I was feeling a little tired and low and passed Tescos where they were offering whole tins of Quality Street for half price. Just five pounds. And no mum or dad to tell me when it could be opened. No brother and sister to grab the fudge ones before I could get to them. I am 43 years old and a grown up now and have the self control not to drink an alcohol drink for over 5 months, even at Christmas parties. I could surely jut eat a handful and then replace the lid and go about my evening.
Or was I capable of eating a whole tin in one sitting? Well no question that I was capable of that, but would I do it?
I limited myself to ten sweets and left the tin downstairs so it would take effort to go back to it. But not enough effort clearly. I went back for another 10. Then another 5 and then right before bed, just another couple to keep me going. And then another one. I was conscious that my girlfriend would be coming home at some point and I wanted to share some of them with her, and not also have her aghast at my greed, so I had to make it look like I hadn't had that many. It was too late to pop out and buy a second tin whichI could refill the first one with. For the moment there were enough in there for me to claim I had only had a few. As long as I got rid of the wrappers. I put them in the bin in the kitchen - why didn't I think of that before? My mum was much less likely to go rooting through the bin than down the sides of the sofa. The wrappers would fall to the bottom and be lost forever. Did I imagine my parents went through the bins like forensic scientists? I certainly assumed that was the case for my then girlfriend's parents when I stayed in their caravan and didn't want to leave any evidence of my nocturnal activities.
So I managed to stop myself devouring the whole lot, mainly due to the fear of the shame that would create, but I fell far short of controlling myself. The sweets were just as moreish as ever and thought there were a few unfamiliar additions - a chocolate block, in a vain attempt to compete with more modern chocolate selections and the coconut one that will remain rattling round in the tin when its brothers are dead (unless my girlfriend likes them) - and I ate until I felt sick and then a little bit after that.
But this means Christmas has arrived. And also for the first time that my home is the home with the Quality Street tin. With great power comes great responsibity. I have no responsibility. Only gaudy, shiny wrappers nestling amongst my coffee grounds and used teabags.
