Java jive

At younger daughter's favourite Second Cup on Metcalfe Street, she retrieves her bright wallet out of the precious purse given to her by her godmother years ago - she won't part with it - and goes up to the counter to order for herself, checking carefully to see that I don't follow, but summoning me to check to see if she has the right amount.

After a diplomatic pause to allow her to pick up her order, I approach our favourite barista, and tell her we won't be back.

When I go to pay, she refuses my money.

"I admire you so much," she breathes.

Thank goodness she'll never know the truth.