Hauling yet another family sized pack of Coke into the car, anyone would’ve thought we were having a party.
The same could have been said if anyone was to look at our recycling by the end of the week.
As there must have been at least 50 tins of bright red full-fat Coke amongst our household waste.
Only, I couldn’t stand the stuff.
Our eldest Harry, now 17, and twins Charlotte and William, both 13, weren’t keen on fizzy drinks either.
There was another culprit.
As sitting spread out on the sofa, sipping away, was my partner Bryn, now 48.
A sight I had been used to seeing ever since we met at work over 17 years ago, before we’d had the kids.
Even though Bryn was roughly 15st when we met, pretty fit and active, his love for fizzy drinks conquered all.
‘Not another can of Coke,’ I’d sigh every time that Bryn came back from the shops.
Wherever we went, Bryn had an extreme
