I think my five-year-old daughter must have noticed how my face lit up when I saw the Opel Rekord and Ford Cortina classic cars for sale, so she came to have a look.

I’m not sure she claimed she like the cars because of how enthusiastically I spoke about them or whether she actually liked them. As I scrolled through the photos of the cars, she asked when we were going to get the car. This is where it became difficult.

Losing my job, I explained to her, meant that it probably wasn’t the best time to buy a classic car, however much I liked them. I tried to explain that maintenance and running costs would be difficult to sustain.

She looked puzzled and pensive at the same time, and that made me unsure of how to tackle such a situation. Money, for kids, is something somewhat alien. The fridge fills itself up alone and clothes – mysteriously of the right size and colour – all appear out of nowhere. Or so I thought.

To my surprise, she jumped of my lap and told me to wait. So I waited.

A few minutes later, she came back wearing a big smile and carrying her little piggy bank. “Here Daddy,” she said proudly, “now you can buy the car you like.”

I was speechless then, and I’m wordless now.