When I was 8, one of my best friends lived in the street behind ours. Each week we'd club together our pocket money and buy sweets and little bottles of Ben Shaw's fizzy pop which we would then hide in a gap in the hedge at the bottom of our garden for the day and raid every so often while we were playing. There was always a packet of Parma Violets in the stash which I secretly loathed (and still do), but went along with as they were her favourites.
A couple of years ago we were chatting, and this came up in conversation. "We always used to have to have Parma Violets," she said. "I hated them, and only got them because you liked them."
The moral of the story? If you're going to make sacrifices for your friends, make sure that they're actually necessary first.
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