The TV shows my children allow me to watch at half-term

Half-term again, so naturally all my TV viewing plans have gone out of the window. In some households — my bearded Victorian brother Dick’s, for example — parents still cleave to the old-fashioned values whereby a sofa-blocking child in front of the TV is instantly ejected should its father or mother wish to watch something else.

But I’d never dream of doing it to ours. When they’re teenagers and when they’re away so much of the time at boarding school, you’re pathetically grateful for whatever crumbs of companionship they are prepared to offer you. So if you happen to find them slumped in the sitting room watching some utter crap like Storage Hunters, the last thing you do is insist they turn over to some improving documentary on macroeconomic theory. Instead, you quietly settle down next to them — hoping they won’t be so appalled by your presence that they flee to their bedrooms — and enjoy.