Yes, @Ladybirdy, I used to walk to school and home afterwards with my sisters, and we were "partners in crime". The whole family was "on rations" when it came to sweets because of my diabetes (way to make the siblings love you), but whenever we had a few pennies we used to go to the sweet shop together, and stock up on all kinds of horrendously sugary treats. When we went "officially" to the sweet shop with my mum, twice a week, we were each allowed a 2 ounce "ration" of whatever we chose. Except me, of course. I got peanuts. Every time. I never complained or whined (because it was all just a role play for me, I knew I'd be hitting the sweet shop again sooner or later with the band of sisters!). The funny thing, looking back, is wondering how the sweet shop owner kept a straight face in front of my mum. And of course, I lost count of how many times I was carried off to hospital in an ambulance when I was a kid. And my parents never, but never admitted that my diabetes was not well-controlled. Or that I was Queen of Liars.