She held up a small container and asked, "Is this the dressing?"
"Yes", I replied, not studying the container too hard, as it's size and shape were pretty obvious to me.
"It's really thick!", added my mom, while I buried my face in the computer, not really having any concern. "What kind of dressing is this?", she further inquired.
"Restaurant dressing", I replied robotically, becoming somewhat annoyed at the conversation that seemed pointless.
The next thing I knew, my mom had flown over the kitchen island to the sink, and was running cold water over her tongue, while she danced in what appeared to be pain.
"Oh yeah", I remembered. "There is also some leftover hot sauce for the chicken".