Which home-alone habit are you least ashamed of? Rank them from proudly guilty to never admitting it!

You stand at the hob with a fork, scoffing the lot before it even cools. Nobody saw it, so it didn't happen.

The posh chocolate ones go somewhere the rest of the household will never look. You call it forward planning.

The doorbell goes and you freeze behind the sofa until the delivery van drives off. Rather that than actual conversation.

You've worn them to the shop, the bin and back to the sofa. Changing feels like showing off.

You give it a good whiff at the armpit and decide it'll do. The washing machine can wait until Sunday.