We had a visit this week from the housemate’s niece who is on holiday from her home in Canada. She was accompanied by her young son who had been invited to attend an international Scouting jamboree in Switzerland.

As the adults sat chatting after dinner he started to look slightly bored. Eventually during a lull in the conversation he asked, “Can I go and play in the garden,”.

“Of course you can,” said the housemate. “In fact if you go up to the very top you’ll find a picky-up-stick and a bin of windfall apples so you could clean all the new windfalls off the lawn.”

“The dry weather is playing havoc with the apple crop - they’re dropping off the tree quicker than we can pick them up. You take your life in your hands to sit in the shade,” she added.

“She’s joking,” I quickly stressed seeing a look of puzzlement cross his face.

Twenty minutes later he arrived back at the dinner table, where we were still sitting.

“I’ve filled the one bin but I’ve found another one so can I start filling that,” asked our young visitor.

“I didn’t mean that you had to clear up the apples,” said the housemate in horror at having co-erced a visitor into child labour.

“I enjoyed it,” came the clearly honest reply.

“I’ve got all the apples from the lawn so am I allowed to walk on your flower beds to pick the ones which have landed there,” he asked seriously.

“You are,” I confirmed. “I’ll come up with you and we can empty the little bin into the bigger bin and give you some space.”

As we walked up the garden path he proudly pointed out the areas he had cleared of damaged apples.

“Do you guys eat apple pie?” he asked as we juggled the contents of the bins.

“We do,” I replied.

“Do you think all my hard work would earn me a piece of pie?”

“ I think it would definitely earn you a whole apple pie. And if you think your Auntie’s strawberry cake is good you should taste her apple pie!”

“Her cake was really good,” he replied, having had an extra slice after dinner.

After another successful session of apple shifting he came back into the house clutching an armful of un-damaged fruit.

“I think these would be perfect for a pie,” he announced looking hopefully at the housemate.

All the time he had been in the garden his phone had sat unused on a table in the living room. After they eventually left we both commented on how refreshing it had been to see an almost -teenager more keen to kick a ball around or pick up apples in the garden than to watch an endless stream of drivel on TikTok or flick pointlessly through Insta or any of the other platforms serving up a constant diet of trash.

It gives you some hope that the planned ban on social media might actually do some good and that future generations might learn to enjoy experiencing the simple pleasures in real life rather than through the screen of a phone.