Killed Two Metaphorical Birds With One Stone

(My family has planned to go to Brisbane after Christmas. I have been incessantly begging to spend a day of our holiday in a famous film studio-based theme park, offering to pay for my own ticket and other concessions, but have so far been refused on account of my age (20) and that we have visited it several times in the past.)

Me: “Oh, come on, please? It’ll be a blast! It’s not like the fun of it diminishes the more you go.”

Mum: “We’ll think about it dear. But going to [Theme Park] is a lot like eating duck.”

Me: “It’s delicious?”

Mum: “No! It tastes nice, but when you tuck into it it’s bony and there’s never enough of it to satisfy you.”

Me: “That’s what ducks are supposed to be like, Mum! If you buy Peking duck and expect it to have the same amount of meat as a roast chook, you’re going to be disappointed! But if you go in expecting a nice Peking duck, you’ll be right!”

Mum: “Well, maybe I’d rather have a roast chook then.”

Me: “You can have roast chook anywhere, any day of the week, but you can only have Peking duck in Brisbane. I love Peking duck and if were going to go halfway across the country, we may as well go pick some up!”

Mum: “Maybe I’d rather not eat either. Maybe I’d rather eat cake.”

Me: “Well, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

Mum: “Stop ruining my metaphors!”