And even though I have no intention of buying one – I don’t need it, won’t use it and don’t do dust-gatherers – the cow creamer of my desire has to be made by Pillivuyt. I’ve seen cheapo versions that look almost identical and they do absolutely nothing for me at all.
But why do I want one? I’m buggered if I know. The only reason that I can think of is that somehow reading Jeeves and Wooster novels at a tender age has had a much greater influence on my tastes and desires than I would have suspected.
Perhaps, since a country house and a valet are both out of my financial reach, my inner self is compensating and squishing all my fading hopes and dreams of a life of luxury into a French milk jug in the shape of a cow.