When I was five years old, I didn’t have a clue who the Prime Minister was.
My son, however, was five in 2020, so he’d learned the name Boris Johnson by about the third of those 5pm lockdown press conferences we had to watch to find out what was going on.
He also had a pretty solid grasp of his parents’ opinion of the man, picking up subtle clues from the not always child friendly terms being screamed at the telly.
