Anyway, there was a time, long in the past, where this was not the case.
Imagine, if you will, a much smaller (much, much smaller) little me, perhaps five years old. Put that little girl in a lovely little dress. Imagine her with a slightly lisping, rather toff English accent. Put her in the Harrods food court, tightly holding onto her mother's (my mother's) hand, looking up with big blue eyes, her soft blonde hair falling in loose curls around her face as she says in a pleading voice:
"Oh, pleeeeeease, mummy? Can't I please have some caviar?"
And I swear, every word of it is true...