Dinner

A typical dinnertime conversation between the Spanish mother and I:

SM: Marisa!  What would you like for dinner?

Me: I think I'm just going to have this sandwich I'm making.

SM:  Some soup, would you like some soup?

Me: No, I'm  not very hungry tonight, I had a big lunch at the school.  I think I'm just going to have this sandwich.

SM: No soup?  *goes to the refrigerator* Lomo, some lomo?

Me: No, I'm just going to have the sandwich.

SM: Just the sandwich?  Lettuce?  But there's no lettuce!  Tomato!  You want tomato?

Me:  No, I'm just going to have it like this.  *Takes out pan and olive oil*

SM: No tomato?

Me:  No, no tomato.

SM:  Nothing else?

Me: No, just the sandwich.

SM: *sees what I'm doing*  Oh no!  You must use butter, not that.  *goes and gets me the butter*

Me: I think olive oil is a little healthier.

SM:  No, no, butter is much better.  Tastes much better.

Me: *shrugs, tired of arguing*  Okay.  *fry my sandwich and sit down to eat*

SM:  Some fruit, Marisa?

Me:  No, I'm only going to have the sandwich.

*At this point, the youngest daughter, who is in the kitchen with us, is cracking up*

SM:  No meat?

Me:  *laughing* No meat.  Just the sandwich.

*At which point the youngest daughter berates her mother for me in a rapid flurry of Spanish and the mother just smiles and tells me she always does this to her girls, but her girls just tell her to shut up and that I'm far too nice.*