On the tube on the way back from the Lumiere display in the centre of London – a cosmic acid trip without the drugs that transforms space and shape by shining different coloured lights on them – and we were sitting opposite a middle aged man with a five o clock shadow, wearing dark green camouflage trousers tucked into lace up cherry red jackboots, a purple bomber jacket and black baseball cap. He was intently reading a history of electric railways in Manchester and Liverpool. I hadn’t realised that trainspotters could be so paramilitary.

Waiting at the bus stop with the shopping and a kid with a manic look on his face zooms past on an electric powered scooter. It is making a noise like a TIE fighter.

Last week one of the children I work with dropped one of those tiny 5p pieces and without thinking about it I asked him to put “the sixpence” away. And we haven’t even had Brexit yet.