I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about the dangers of addiction for many years yet, but while I was complacently looking the other way, my daughter has become completely and uncontrollably addicted.
It’s my own fault – I kept a constant supply of snack boxes in my handbag to keep her from causing a scene on public transport.
One box became two, until she was polishing them off like a raisin-eating conveyor belt. I should have spotted the signs.
The desperate look in her eyes, the grasping hands, the pleading whine that only stopped when a box of raisins appeared.
One day I made the terrible mistake of boarding a bus without enough dried fruit to last the entire journey.
Big Sis was winding up to a full decibel meltdown until another mum stepped forward with an emergency bread stick. Thankfully it was enough to distract her until I could rush to the shops and stock up again.
Who knew grapes could be so darn dangerous?