For the last couple of weeks daughter 2 and I have been playing a game of chess every few days. She’s been learning at school and doesn’t need any tuition from me.

Now that sounds as though I know the game. Nope, I’m a novice. Almost. I’ve played occasional games against computers since the nineteen eighties but it never gained much traction with me; until recently I lost every game.

Since buying the chess set as part of a ‘Classic Games Compendium’ I’ve had to overcome an early dilemma: do I let my daughter win? That’s an easy one, no. We discussed it and I gave her my rationale: when she beats me the first time I’ll be, at that moment, the proudest daddy alive.

Oh, before I forget, a colleague has offered to play me. I’m not ready yet but, just in case, at lunchtimes I’ve been playing against the computer. Level 1. No wins yet but one stalemate 1/2 indicates what I’m going to call ‘improvement’.

For now though, being honest about this, I’m happy to have my ego massaged by beating my baby.

Daughter 1 was given a new iPhone 6S as an early birthday present and to reward better-than-expected performance at school. I spent time with her setting up an iCloud child account, then talking about, agreeing, and finally implementing an initial plan within the scope of restrictions available to parents who wish to insulate their wonderful offspring from harm online.

Yes of course it got me thinking about the pissbrains who don’t see the need for it and let their kids do whatever they like online in the pursuit of an easy parenting life.

The inevitable arms race the children are subjected to whilst keeping up with the apps and services their peers must use simply to exist in a modern social sphere is something I don’t want to consider. We’re in an age of devolved responsibility; when the harm’s done, the quite naturally angry parents fail to direct their ire towards the root cause, instead finally bleating that the networks aren’t doing enough to protect ‘children’.