On New Year’s Eve 2021, probably because some other doughnut in a newspaper said it was a fun idea, the family all wrote down predictions for the year ahead and sealed them in a box. When we opened them at the weekend, it turned out my son hadn’t done one at all, hadn’t even put a decoy in, and it’s a mystery how he got away with it, given we were all sitting right there. So now I’m looking forward to his career in magic. The youngster, even though 13 is not that young, misunderstood the concept of a prediction, and instead included her ambitions for a multiplayer video game that she no longer plays.
So that left three: I had said I thought Covid would be seen as no different from a cold, that nobody would self-isolate or even test any more, and everything would be completely normal. Mr Z’s was in two parts – Liz Truss would be prime minister, and Ukraine would be further annexed. The other 15-year-old had said she would always have £100 in her bank account.
