whenever my mom says whatever she actually means none of your suggestions

family dinner is always an Olympic event.

we were out walking around the plaza last night looking for a spot to sit down. i asked my mom what she wanted to eat. she gave me that classic line, whatever is fine, you pick, i am not picky at all.

so i suggested hot pot, she said too greasy. i suggested cantonese, she said too bland. i pointed at a noodle spot, she said sitting on plastic stools would hurt her back. after rejecting five consecutive places, she turned around and sighed at me like i was the difficult one.

we ended up walking into a casual bistro. before i could say another word, i scanned the little code on the table that brought up their menuforma page, handed the phone directly into her palm, and told her to scroll through the dishes herself.

she swiped quietly for three minutes, looked at the photos, and picked steamed sea bass with greens.

lesson learned: next time just hand over the visual list instead of turning it into a debate.