Because you never know when you'll meet a knight with a white horse.

I was in the downtown Starbucks, which I like because it has long tables which allow me to work without feeling that I am hogging a table all to myself which other people would want.  (Said tables all have power outlets underneath them, which make them even more attractive.)  A young man came in who had been at the bank down the street.  He was carrying two plush white ponies.

He saw me looking at them.  "They're cute," I said.  "Want one?" he responded.

After hemming and hawing, I succumbed to his suggestion that a grown woman needed a small stuffed white horse named, according to the tag on its ear, "Snowflake."  "You can call it Starbucks," he said.

So I now own a white plush pony named "Starbucks." Yet another sign that I am not growing up, but instead back towards childhood.  As if I care about that.