Sunday morning began with a frenzied bout of Googling. “When does Gen Z end and Gen Alpha begin?” The first (erroneous) result made my heart slump, but the second, third and fourth reassured me. My daughter – born in 2011 – isn’t a part of generation hell-in-a-handcart, generation anxiety and generation piety, but the first of a shiny new breed that will, I hope, be characterised by a more positive set of traits.