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Back in the day I was a smoker and I loved it.

I enjoyed every cigarette I inhaled from the age of seventeen onwards. Coffee breaks, dinners, a drink in the pub, every social occasion was made better by the appearance of my old pal nicotine.

For a number of reasons - not least of all a fanatically anti smoking boyfriend-  I ended up quitting. The process of parting ways with my cigarettes was a long one that I shall not bore you with but let's just say it wasn't an break but, in time, I was able to look back fondly at our relationship.

Now I'm not one of those people who quit and then bang on and on about how bad smoking is to all and sundry and I don't shoot daggers at anyone skulking outside a pub to suck on a cigarette.

In fact I quite like the smell of smoke and I had somewhat prided myself on the fact that I was kind of cool and didn't feel the need to bleat on about giving up the habit to those who were still enjoying it.

But that was before Tuesday lunchtime when I popped out to the local spar for a sandwich and saw a pile of school kids standing in corners self-consciously smoking.

Now I've had to re-access my stance. I wanted to run over and grab each awkwardly held cigarette, crush it under my foot and then deliver the cancer talk. Failing that, the cigarettes ruin your skin talk.

In my obvious stupidity I had thought that school students actually frowned upon smokers these days. I honestly thought all the campaigns, and the ban (not to mention the insane cost of cigarettes) meant the younger generations didn't take up the habit anymore.

Don't be fooled kids. It's really not cool.