It’s said the honeymoon period for a new prime minister is about 100 days. After that, the lustre of the newbie starts to wane, and we Brits find our attention grabbed by the flirtatious overtures of another political paramour.

Unfortunately for our Mancunian Messiah, his may have lasted for as long as it takes to boil a kettle – which, now, thanks to him, is pennies cheaper. Possibly … if he can fund the money.

To be fair, he did promise to do politics differently. And there, he’s already delivering. I can’t remember a previous PM who managed two scandals before the removal men had finished carrying in the boxes.

Andy began, as many of his forebears have, by announcing that he would announce nothing.

The grand vision? A 10-year plan, which he would tell us more about at some misty point later in the year.

Meanwhile, MPs toddle off on their summer holidays, giving the new Prime Minister some 50 days of blessed silence in which not one of them may ask him a single question.

Then came Tuesday, and wheeze number one – VAT on electricity bills, gone!

Rejoice! For the average savings to your household? £45 a year. That’s about 12p a day, roughly a third of a Freddo.

But you know what they say. Look after the pennies and the pounds will take off themselves.

Mr Burnham just had to find several hundred million, which he declared would come from canning the digital ID scheme.

Marvellous! The nation breathes a sigh of relief and starts dreaming about how to spend their £45.

Except that within roughly the time it takes to microwave a pasty, up popped Darren Jones – Starmer’s man who was shown the door a day earlier – to point out that the scheme was never funded in the first place.

I reckon it’s rather hard to pay for cheaper energy bills with money that isn’t there. I’ve tried settling my gas bill with a few bucks from the Monopoly box. It didn’t work.

Two days in, and the banker says no – the Treasury is rummaging behind the cushions.

But it was scandal number two that captured the spirit of the new era.

Gathered in the No 10 garden after the very first Cabinet meeting, Wes Streeting turned to Shabana Mahmood and observed of the new Justice Secretary: “He wants to let them all out.”

Oh, how they laughed! Now, I hesitate to be po-faced.

But there is a particular richness in Labourites chuckling at this, given their sorry scheme saw lags stroll out the gates in their thousands.

Greeted by popping champagne, a celebratory joint or two, and a fancy motor to whizz them away.

Now I’d say that’s not a laughing matter. Unless, of course, you’re the lag let loose.

Two days, two scandals, one kettle marginally cheaper to boil. He said he’d do politics differently, and he wasn’t fibbing. He’s doing it at twice the speed.

Heaven help us all come September, when Parliament returns and someone is finally allowed to ask him a question.