When I was younger, like most kids, I might be asked set the table for breakfast.
Bowl first, side plate to the left, glass to the right, spoon above it and knife on the plate.
“Can I go back to play now, please?”
Dad would inspect my handiwork and invariably complain.
“That’s a soup spoon! You can’t have a soup spoon for eating breakfast cereal.”
“Da-a-a-a-a-a-d! It doesn’t ma-a-a-a-a-tter! It’s a spoon! A spoon’s a spoon!”
I was wrong. You can’t have a soup spoon for eating breakfast cereal.
A spoon is not a spoon. My Dad was right.