My dad used to tell me a story about his younger brother winning a bike by knowing the most yo-yo tricks. There was no actual contest, he’d never even used a yo-yo — he just wrote in with a list of tricks and was declared the winner.

Clare Reddaway’s story about a couple of young friends who desperately want hula hoops when they were a fad reminded me of that story.

Oh, the rapture the first time we touched those thin bands of plastic. Mine was orange as a lolly. Angharad’s was the bright green of arsenic.

So, let me tell you what it feels like when you hoool your hoop.