Seeing your youngster's first day at school . . . priceless

That's £11.5m a week. Or a cool £2.3m a day. Call it the odd £288,000 per hour.

(Don't get me wrong; I love my job with the Star but . . . where do I sign?)

These are figures that would make even hardened money shakers – my solicitor, perhaps – stand up and applaud.

Imagine the hard work, the politicking, the press-fleshing, the backstabbing, the wheeling and the dealing that you'd have had to go through to reach that pinnacle of a career.

And yet, Mohammed El-Erian has abruptly chucked it all in.

Educated at Pool Hayes Comprehensive in Willenhall (Oxford and Cambridge really – I was just checking if you were still paying attention) and at a sprightly 56, he was the chief executive of a £1.2 trillion investment fund.

(If you can't work out how many zeros that is, just imagine that if you borrowed a tenner from one of those daytime TV ads, this is what you'd owe them after two weeks).

It meant his alarm clock went off at 2.45am, in the office by 4.15am, home at about 7pm, microwave tea and Corrie (as if) before going to bed around 8.45pm.

Rumours were rife when he stepped down that he'd had a row with his boss, especially when he trotted out the old line that he 'wanted to spend more time with his family'.

As we all know, this hackneyed old cliché is often used by politicians caught with their pants down, some Tesco execs any day now or Alex Salmond last week.

But in the case of Mr El-Erian, it's absolutely the truth.

And it was all brought about by a child's toothbrush.

He explained: "About a year ago, I asked my daughter several times to brush her teeth with no success."

(Note, this is about the only point that me and Mohammed have in common.)

He added: "I reminded her that it was not so long ago that she would have immediately responded.

"She asked me to wait a minute, went to her room and came back with a piece of paper. It was a list that she had compiled of her important events and activities that I had missed due to work commitments. Talk about a wake-up call."

The list contained 22 milestones that he had missed so far in the 10-year-old's life, ranging from her first day at school to her first football match, a Halloween parade – even a PTA meeting (and hands up anyone who hasn't dodged one of these at some point).

He continued: "I felt awful and got defensive: I had a good excuse for each missed event! Travel, important meetings, an urgent phone call, sudden to-dos. But it dawned on me that I was missing an infinitely more important point.

"As much as I could rationalise it, my work-life balance had gotten way out of whack, and the imbalance was hurting my very special relationship with my daughter. I was not making nearly enough time for her."

And so, he quit.

Instead of working at 100mph, he was now 'going to go at 50mph' and make time for the things in life that are really important.

He's taken a number of 'part-time' jobs (consultant to Allianz insurance, adviser to President Obama, behind the counter at Greggs) and now enjoys having breakfast with the family before taking it in turns to do the school run.

Which brings us back to the link between the minted Mohammed and the mums of Merry Hill.

Because according to a government survey this week, stay-at-home mothers are the happiest people in Britain, with more than eight-out-of-10 saying they thought their roles were worthwhile.

Of course they are – and they are just as important as all the bankers in the world.

You cannot measure in monetary terms the value of good parenting, whether you stay at home or combine that 24/7 lifetime commitment with work.

And you can't put a price on the pleasure of seeing your child's first day at school, their first football match or, yes, even that first PTA meeting.

But it sounds like it's more than £600m a year.