I love parents who persist with a heart the size of the moon.

My mother’s specialty was hammering you until you would eat something she made.

A family classic that had a lot of variations was the time my mother made a pie and offered some to my brother.

He said no thanks.

She then began probing.

Your sure?

No mother.

It’s just going to go to waste.

Irritation grows. No mother.

After a strategic wait, she tried again. He was reaching the boiling point.

No thank you, with a voice edge.

Another strategic wait.

“There is just one piece left, you sure.”

He explodes. “Blankety blank mother, I don’t wait the blankety blank pie.”

She pretends to retreat. Time passes.

“You sure Jerry?”

He turns to to me and laughs. And laughs.

“Sure mother, I’ll take the pie.”

And as she matter of factly brings it to him she doesn’t say a word.