There is a procedure to eating a sandwich. It may even be an art form. It was not until I saw James trying to eat a sandwich that I realised quite how streamlined this process is.
When eating a sandwich:
we eat one quarter at a time, we don't take a bite from the three remaining quarters before returning to the first quarter;
we eat the filling along with the bread, we don't suck out the filling through the corner;
when filling falls out, we don't try to squeeze it back in through the hole from which it emerged;
we take several bites to eat the quarter, we don't push it all into our mouths in one go and then, cheeks bulging, attempt to chew;
finally, we eat both slices on the quarter simultaneously, we don't take off one and then return for the bottom slice - both of which are now devoid of filling anyway.
Ah yes, we are so dignified, us sandwich eaters. We have robbed this simple activity of all the variety and exploration that it could be, regimenting the process so that it is unthinkingly completed. Where is the excitement! Where is the delight? Where is the exploration! As soon as we see a sandwich, we know how every single person will complete the task of eating it. No more, I say. Throw out the procedure manual and lets have some fun!