My relationship with milk ended when I tossed my bottle at the age of eleven months because – I was told – I didn’t like the new nipple. Despite parental efforts to soften same, I would have nothing more to do with my bottle or its contents. My mother did later manage to get milk down me in the form of cocoa in a mug, but milk on its own, no thanks. So, it was a good thing the council school I attended didn’t make anyone drink it. It was there if you wanted it, and lots of kids did.