AH, Bank Holidays, don't you just love them?

What's better than two free lie-ins, a couple of days to do exactly as you please and loads of good films on the telly?

The only thing I've found about Bank Holidays, is that, like Christmas, visits to theme parks and Nutella chocolate spread on toast, they seem to somehow lose their sparkle the older you get.

I reckon Bank Holidays are best when you're in your early twenties and have no responsibility.

Once you're a homeowner you're duty-bound to spend Bank Holidays doing jobs you've been avoiding all year, like tiling the bathroom and hoovering skirting boards, rather than getting drunk all day with your friends.

Now it’s light in the evenings it’s harder to ignore the layer of dust that's nestled happily on hard-to-reach shelves and staircase spindles since Christmas, I find.

I imagine the Bank Holiday gloss only continues to fade as you get older too, with DIY and spring cleaning being replaced by trips to the fair with sugar-crazed kids.

And of course there’s the universal Bank Holiday rule that if you’ve the day off it’ll be pouring down, but if you're working you can expect the world outside to be basking in glorious sunshine.

Don't listen to me, though. I’m just jealous because I'm working all weekend.

Easter Bank Holiday is always the best one because it's a double-whammy.

And, of course, there's the eggs.

At no other time of year would I dream of shoving fistfuls of mini eggs into my mouth until I feel sick, but at Easter it's allowed.

This can cause something of a problem when Easter is over and it's no longer appropriate to devour three packets of Rolos in one sitting.

With an Amy Winehouse-level addiction to sugar, I find myself hanging around supermarkets trying to buy up all the discounted chocolate eggs, which is just embarrassing.

My friend – let’s call her Jane – had to resort to hypnotherapy one year to beat her addiction to Cadbury’s creme eggs after a particularly greedy Easter.

The hypnotist got her to imagine being boxed into a tiny suffocating space by creme eggs, and she had to imagine bursting her way out to freedom.

My favourite thing about Easter used to be waking up to find a piece of string tied around my big toe. The idea was you're follow the piece of string to your first clue and then set off on an Easter treasure hunt around the garden.

He was always a funny one, my dad.

But whatever you're doing this Bank Holiday, be it laying a patio, getting smashed with your mates or spending all day on the waltzers, I hope it’s a good ’un and you all have a very happy Easter.