Last Saturday, I was due to attend a garden party being hosted by one of my oldest friends, but I did not have time. After picking up four-year-old Sasha from swimming I had to take her to a party, then pick her up from that party and take her to another, then take three-year-old Ludo to a party, then pick them both up and bring them home.
I have no doubt that this pattern — or something like it — was repeated up and down the country. If a Martian landed in Britain on a Saturday afternoon, knowing nothing about us in advance, he would conclude that we live in a world in which children occupy the highest social tier, with adults acting as their indentured servants. And he would be right.
This phenomenon is not confined to Britain.
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