Tom and I are at my parents' house in Vegas, for my dad's 65th birthday.
We pressured my mother to cook a birthday dinner. She got totally into it, and this is the result:
My mother decided ten years ago that I do not know how to cook. Despite years of protests from me, culminating in my cooking a dinner that she ate and said was good, she still maintains that I cannot cook. I've given up. Now I go along with it.
During dinner tonight:
Me: "This stewed eggplant is better than at restaurants! And the chives in the dumplings are amazing."
My mother: "It's nice when people don't know how to cook, like Niniane. You can make any sort of food, and they appreciate it."
Me: "What happens to kids whose moms don't know how to cook? Do they just suffer eating terrible food their whole childhood?"
My mother: "There are no mothers who cannot cook!"
Me: "All right, let me put the question a different way. What's going to happen to my kids?"
My mother: [laughing] "That's a good point. But... no! There are no mothers who can't cook!"
Tom: "Niniane, that means Mom thinks you'll never have kids."