My 20th birthday coincided with the start of my first year flatting and my parents gave me a bean bag.
They were fashionable at the time, as were fondue pots and pottery mugs which other people gave me.
One by one the mugs broke. The fondue pot lasted more than 30 years until a chocolate and cream mixture burned to the bottom of it, but I’ve still got the bean bag.
However, a bit like great-grandpa’s axe that’s had five new handles and a couple of new heads, it has had several fresh infusions of beans and one new cover.
So, while it’s not the original bean bag, the one I have is the same size, shape and as comfortable as the original and I’m still grateful for it.