Toast. And Marmite.

I'll start off in a vaguely intellectual manner (as opposed to my usual meanderings), with a startling fact that I heard on the Radio 4 Today programme yesterday morning. Apparently, honey has now overtaken marmalade as the spread of choice at breakfast. More money is now spent on honey of various types than all the thin shred, thick cut and Dundee marmalade put together. What, not everyone eats Marmite first thing in a morning? I thought it was obligatory? Ever since I was small I've had Marmite on my toast. Every day at university I used to line up in the breakfast queue, clutching my Marmite jar (and I wasn't the only one) to spread on the beautifully lukewarm toast that Mary the Toast Dragon doled out (two slices if you were lucky, three if you smiled and four if you were over 6ft tall and played rugby). And it's continued ever since (although, obviously, I don't have Mary the Toast Dragon in my kitchen supplying lukewarm toast anymore. Which is probably a good thing). Even my cat likes the corner of the toast with a bit of Marmite on. What's wrong with you people?