The Room

 Do you remember, at the beginning of Lockdown 1, when celebrities were interviewed on the TV from home? It was a new experience. Some took great care of the background they presented. For a while they used specially created Zoom backgrounds of bookcases. The world started to get upset (although I still can’t understand why they were surprised) the dictator’s autobiographies featured heavily on the shelves of our ‘great’* leaders.  They were all aware that the background image seemed to matter.

Now that we are in Lockdown 3, we are all TV ‘stars’*. Kids know more about their teacher’s bedroom than they really should. We have grown used to seeing junior reporters interviewing health chiefs from their grotty bedsit £1000 a month room. We are used to children walking in and leaving a note on their Mum’s desk during an important meeting that says, “I’m going for a poo.” Even Peston’s wife doesn’t bother pretending it’s an accident anymore and has no worries about plonking a cup of tea down during the Ten O’clock news. Matt Hancock has stopped pretending that he doesn’t live inside Rishi Sunak’s red Treasury box, with its own mini red case.

My daughter’s house purchase is due to happen next week and she has found the tour of people’s homes to be very inspirational.  Pink kettles, grey kitchen cabinets and different curtain treatments have all absorbed her attention.

Children learning from home are similarly distracted. They don’t hold back in telling you though. With a sharp intake of breath they inform you that one of the teacher’s videos was filmed in the school staffroom.

“I thought we were all supposed to be staying at home?” they ask with a mixture of sadness and hope that they too might be allowed to pop into school.

Another wants to know why they don’t have videos with the teacher who is in school teaching the key workers anymore. When you explain they say, “Oh that’s a shame. I really liked his cat. When I grow up I’m going to have a big clock on my wall too.”

Maybe  they could give the minister for loneliness (oh yes, there is one, even though she has been conspicuously quiet) the responsibility for privacy. I’m sure she could do an ‘excellent’* job of that too.

* sarcastic quotation marks. Please make the gesture as you read.