I’m my mind’s eye it’s 2036 and this dear old fellah from the dales has the family round, a grand time being had by all. He makes for his chair, pint in hand, but there’s one of the great great grandkids toys in the way, he stubs a toe on it and spills a bit of his pint. The family hold their breath hoping he keeps his balance.

He does, but he glares at the toy and mutters ‘bloody Brexit’.