Bubbles used to be such a happy word. I remember (being far too old for them, but still) blowing hundreds down the streets of St Andrews as a teenager, watching the smiles of baffled shoppers as they floated past, light on the wind and rainbow-sphered.
Later, it was all about how terrible it is to be in our very own social media bubbles, our echo chambers. I’ve always been a big fan of them, myself. I feel no need to emerge from my social media comfort zone and listen to the views of people who say my children don’t exist.
Now it’s bubbles again for Christmas: three families for five days. Who gets to be in your bubble? Who needs to be kept outside for their own safety?
I never thought of a bubble as something with a lock.