I come from a place destined with sugar.

I come from a place that has been struck with the sweet tooth gene.

This lightning hit the family when my grandad opened up a new sweet store.

Young's Sweets, a sign freshly painted by my great-uncle.

Everyone in my family had red laces on their shoes and blue bonbon-coloured eyes.

Sometimes it looked like a pack of Jelly Babies owned the store.

The dentist hated us, but it's okay, the sweet tooth didn't like them either.

Our teeth probably looked like milk bottles to them.

This sweet tooth made our hair strands of dairy milk Curly Wurlys.

Made our legs look like strawberry pencils, or at least in red jeans they did.

You would always know when the Young family is around, the smell of sugar would hit you.

Some may call this lightning unlucky, but I think it's a blessing.

There's nothing wrong with being too sweet.

This gene belongs to us, just like rhubarb and custard belong together.