When I first began to register Stanley cups and their kin, I thought they were a distinctly lower-end-of-Gen-Z thing. My 22-year-old friend, who we all call “baby”, has one, which seemed fitting. But then the other day, in this very adult office, I noticed not one but two co-workers sporting the grown-up equivalent of a sippy cup. In the boardroom! Now I see them everywhere. Fully grown men and women chain them to their hands with wrist strap add-ons, the kind you’d typically reserve for a £600 iPhone or an unruly Wii remote, lest you break your £1,000 TV screen. They sip on them constantly, in a display of oral dependency so barefaced it would drive Sigmund Freud buckwild.