I read Wodehouse novels to keep myself from despondency. One such novel, The Code of the Woosters, centers on a creamer shaped like a cow. Bertie Wooster's aunt wants him to sneer at it in a shop so the owner loses confidence in its value and Bertie's uncle can buy it cheap. When he fails in that assignment, he is tasked with stealing it from a large country house where he is a guest. As with most Wodehouse novels about Bertie Wooster, Jeeves saves the day.
I believe it was last year around this time that I was shopping for an anniversary present for my wife (our anniversary is this Sunday; gifts are unnecessary but far from discouraged; tradition would have you buy us pearls or silk). While browsing the store, I came across a cow creamer. In that moment, I came to see the insensibility of my not yet owning a cow creamer.
That was how part of my wife's present was this handsome cow creamer.
This is much like how Marge Simpson came to own a bowling ball.
A few weeks later, we had over some friends who are also Wodehouse friends. (That's not the basis of our friendship, but it is one of a handful of its pillars.) The wife said, "Nice cow creamer." My wife said, "I guess it's from a Wodehouse book." Our friend said, "Well, yeah."
NB: We don't drink coffee.