Have the mess clean itself up

“If we could go back to enjoying breakfast together and let the mess clean itself up, would you rather that or clean it yourself?”

“Well of course I'd rather the mess clean itself up” she chuckles to herself, completely unfazed by the levitating cutlery and food rising and reforming into an orderly setting in front of her.

“Ah, thank goodness for that.” She sits back down in her seat and pulls it up to the table. “It's difficult lugging these things around at my age.” Your mother absent-mindedly hefts her right breast to demonstrate it's weight and then releases it. It bounces slightly in response and then settles back into it's natural sagging position near the tabletop. She picks up her cutlery and begins to eat her breakfast, struggling a bit to reach around her massive melons. You must admit, her breasts do look very heavy, and you feel a tinge of guilt for bestowing such endowments upon her without her knowledge. You decide to at least give her the option of clueing herself in. She is your mother after all.

“Mom, if I had magical powers that could change reality, would you rather be aware of the changes and how they work or be completely indifferent about anything I do with them?”