No guarantees...

I gave Mom a slice of marble pound cake as a treat. After all, sweets are what they love the best, right?

After about 2 minutes of looking at it:

Mom: What do I do with this?

Me: Eat it. It's good.

Mom: Do you want it?

Me: No, thank you.

Mom: How good is it if you don't want it?

She picks a small corner off and puts it in her mouth.

Mom: Can I put this in the refrigerator?

Me: No.

Mom: What should I do with it?

Me: Just eat it.

Mom: How?

Me: Put it in your mouth.

Mom: The whole thing??

Me: No, just part. You can take a bite.

We go back and forth a few more times.

Silence.

Mom: What should I do with this?

Me: Eat it.

Mom: How?

Me: Take a bite.

Mom: With my NOSE???

Me: That's up to you.

It's been about 8 minutes and it's about half gone.

Silence. But, she's just holding it like someone handed her a dirty tissue.

Mom: What should I do with this?

Me: Could you please just eat it?

Mom: Why? So you can poison me?

Me: Just set it on your plate and I'll take it.

Mom: And that's why I haven't eaten in 3 days.

Me: Do you want it or not?

Mom: Who made you boss? Can't I just eat it without you pestering me?

Apparently not.

This conversation lasted about 15 minutes. She pulled off enough that there was only a squished piece about the size of quarter between her thumb and forefinger.

Mom: What should I do with this? 

No, I didn't give the obvious answer that I so wanted to give.  I can't guarantee my response next time.