The Sunny-boy fiasco of 2001


It was the summer of 2001. I had just moved out of home and was living with my now husband and my brother in an antiquated little cottage in Glebe.

Ah… those heady days when buying my own groceries was still a novelty and I could buy what I wanted, anytime I wanted.

And so it was on a balmy summer afternoon that I thought I would grab a sunny boy from the freezer. Oh, how I enjoyed slurping on that ice cold block of flavoured ice, so much so that I thought I would have another.

No one was there to stop me, or tell me that perhaps it wasn’t such a grand idea.

How was I to know?

It was about half an hour after my last sunny boy of the day that I started feeling strange. I felt jittery, wired and suffered from heart palpitations and sweaty palms. What was happening to me?

I was freaking out big time and then I realised why I could possibly be feeling so uncomfortable.

It was the sunny boys.

How was I to know that consuming close to half a litre of heavily loaded sugar water packed with unforeseen amounts of preservatives, colours and additives could make me feel so terrible.

It wasn’t funny for me at the time. My huaband on the other hand, thought it was hilarious.

And so that, my friends, was the summer that I learnt a very valuable lesson.

What ever you do, no matter how hot you are or how much you enjoy it – stop at one sunny boy.

Encouraging such excessive consumption of these things should be illegal!

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