I am 12 and my great aunt, Etty, is taking me to lunch. Etty is in her 60s, but to me, she's about 100. She leans over the table, raises her bright-red polished fingernail at me. 'Let me tell you some thing, Honey. We only come this way once. But if you do it right, once is enough.' This is good news. This is bad news.