We have had a very important week because our household has at last aspired to the very high importance of public life.

We now count among our number no less than a publically-elected official. A councillor, no less! More than a mere councillor, in fact: a school councillor.

Rewind back a week or so, and before I take the children to school I am making a rosette with the words “Vote Alice!” in the centre.

I am a little disturbed that the rosette is blue, but it was the only one I could find. Charlie is somewhat upset that I have cannibalised a two-year-old “birthday boy” rosette for this purpose, but this is politics we’re talking about. Show weakness and you’re food for the circling sharks. Sentiment is for chumps. Nobody gets elected by boo-hooing over an old birthday rosette. Charlie reluctantly agrees that this keepsake of his sixth birthday can be, effectively, destroyed to further his younger sister’s political career.

Alice looks the slightest bit dubious about the rosette. “It’ll give you the edge,” I confidently tell her. We have all been very proud since she came home and told us that she has been nominated to take part in the school council elections. I say, “You need something to lift you above the other candidates.”

I talk to her about the democratic process and the hustings and how to win more votes and the great British tradition of elections.

The look on her face leads me to suspect that I am actually spoiling all this for her, and decide to shut up.

“What are your election promises?” I ask.

“To not be shy in meetings and do the best for my class,” says Alice.

I have to admit, I’m impressed. I do get worried, though, when I hear that one of her election rivals has promised a climbing frame in the playground.

This may well be a promise that can never be delivered, but what if this other child sweeps to success on the back of these outrageous claims? It wouldn’t be the first time politicians have done major U-turns as soon as they get into office.

I briefly wonder whether Alice shouldn’t be making some extravagant promises. A school trip to Disneyland, perhaps, or Cheryl Cole as a supply teacher.

The rest of the family quickly assures Alice that the best policy is honesty and that she should have manageable, achievable election policies.

Come last Thursday, the voting has taken place, but the votes are going to be counted overnight – like a real election! – and announced the next day.

After a nailbiting morning, we hear that class 1HB has indeed declared... and Alice is one of the school councillors.

She has her picture taken with Coun Simon Cooke, who visits the school. But why is she holding her arm up like that on the picture?

Then I realise. She’s hiding that stupid rosette.