We don't have many billboards around here and when I first read the prompt for this 8-minute memoir, I was seriously thinking I'll just skip this one, but I like a challenge and I want to say I'm not a quitter...but we all know that's not the truth. ;)

When we lived in Maidenhead on the way to school there was this billboard advertising B&H Cigarettes. Every morning we would drive past this huge sign advertising cigarettes and I would think, 'Man, I can't wait till I get to school so I can sneak off and have a fag.' 

I've since given up smoking but I still crave them every day and I think that I always will, which is so depressing when I think about it. After a really big meal, long conversations on the phone or hanging out with the bestie, or when I'm seriously upset or stressed out (and let's face it. I'm a foster carer. Something is always stressful) is when I'm most vulnerable to the urge to pick up the habit again. I don't, mainly because of the cost, my god, it's crazy expensive these days, but also because I know how disappointed I would be in myself.
I smoked from the age of 15 and for a long time, that was part of me. Which is a weird thing to say really.
The day my husband was diagnosed with cancer, I stood outside puffing away while he told me his diagnoses.
The day we buried my pop we stood around smoking, talking about how fucking awful cancer was.
What idiots.
I tried quitting many many times, and every time I'd pick it back up again, smoking behind Lex's back because he hated it. We had so many arguments over it. Him demanding I quit and me digging my heels in refusing.
The only thing that really stopped me in my tracks was when I was standing outside and LM opened the back door and I yelled at him to stay inside because I was smoking and I didn't want him to come near me when I had a cigarette. His little face crumpled up and he started to cry. "I just wanted to give you a hug mum."

I quit that day.