‘Be back in time for tea’ was a well-used saying during my youth as the evenings followed a similar pattern come rain, hail or shine.

Arriving home, there was a real sense of urgency to hang the school uniform up on the floor and chuck on the nearest football kit (the Liverpool FC Hitachi being a personal favourite), before riding the Mag Burner at breakneck speed down to a mate’s house to play football until, and after, dark.

Occasionally, as a change and fancying a bit of variety, usually if there were girls about, we would knock the football on the head and go and set something alight in the woods, play knock down ginger or go on the search for porn pages in bushes of which there seemed to be an abundance (along with white dog poo).

But now, alas, we don’t seem to give the freedom to kids that we enjoyed back ‘in the day.’

Brett Ellis never gets to tell his kids 'Be back in time for tea'Brett Ellis never gets to tell his kids 'Be back in time for tea'

Nowadays, even if you do like to give your kids some space, as do I, other parents don’t and hence they are left with little option but to join their compatriots by spending their downtime staring at a phone screen in their bedrooms as real-life experience passes them by.

They have phones now and choices regarding products and paid for time-limited activities, such as bowling, but that choice has done little but restrict their experience and movement as with choice comes the watering down of content.

Take TV, which kids, contrary to middle-aged opinion, rarely watch, well, certainly not terrestrial. They rave about shows on Netflix which are generally inferior quality, as their expectations have been dumbed down.

As bairns, we would, despite a dearth of channels, get to enjoy, at various stages of the child life cycle, Tiswas, Grange Hill, Bagpuss, Morph, The Muppets, Grizzly Adams, Jamie and the Magic Torch, Rainbow and, a favourite of mine: The Littlest Hobo.

Nowadays, besides the odd classic such as Young Sheldon or The Norris Nuts, kids have little of any depth to occupy their imagination and are crying out for the modern-day incarnation of Digby: The Biggest Dog in the World, who would, if remade, require black bin sacks in place of poo bags.

So yes, I feel sad as I rarely get to say ‘get home for tea’ as we instead battle to get them off their devices for 10 minutes to come downstairs for a lasagne or spag bol, but at least they are generally safe, physically at least, even though the psychological effects of being wrapped in cotton wool will not become apparent until they become adults and have scant little to reminisce about.

  • Brett Ellis is a teacher.