I have many faults, but when I use the last skerrick of toot paper, I put another roll on.

Admittedly, this was not always the case.

Many moons ago, in my early 20s and queasy post-party, I was hanging out with some uni classmates at a friend’s kitchen table, when the friend’s burly father unexpectedly burst in.

“Who left this?” he growled, brandishing the empty toilet roll.