Finally, after a fortnight of soggy Sydney days a crystalline morning dawned. Our extension roof and back gutter were full of humus from the overhanging branches of our neighbour’s Lilly Pilly. No more putting it off, I decided. Time to get out there before the rain returned. For the first time, my seven-year-old joined me on the job. He enthusiastically cleaned the skylight, chucked decaying leaves and flowers onto the deck below, and held branches while I sawed and pruned. When our cheap secateurs broke, he walked the 500 metres alone to the hardware store and back to buy new ones – twice, because he didn’t have enough cash the first time. As he returned with the new tool clutched in one hand and a bag of lollies in the other, his face glowed with quiet triumph. It was, he said to my wife the next morning on the way to school, the highlight of his weekend.

I have Jonathan Haidt’s new book, The Anxious Generation, to thank for this Rubicon moment in our family life. Which is, I suppose, a touch ironic, because Haidt’s hopeful message is that when it comes to the hold that digital technologies, and especially social media, have over our lives and the lives of our children, the die is not yet cast.