I asked my mother the other day, "What do you want for dinner? I'll get you anything your little heart desires."
My mother, true to form, radiated the stereotypical motherly vibe: "Don't worry about me. Just make whatever you want, dear."
So I said, "You want a nice cold-cut sandwich?" to which she replied, "I dunno, maybe something warm."
So I racked my brain. "How about some mac and cheese? You love my mac and cheese!"
She said "Maybe something meatier."
I said, "A steak? How about a nice, juicy steak?"
"Too much work, with the knife and the fork and the cutting and the chewing."
Hmm. "Spaghetti and meatballs? Meatballs are meaty!"
"Too round. Maybe something flatter?"
What did my mother want to eat?