
Paper. Tickets. Photographs. Shirts. Plates. Japanese has noticed something they share: they are flat or thin enough to belong to the same counting family.
枚(まい) counts many flat or thin things. Ask 何枚(なんまい) when you want to know how many.
After ひとつ・ふたつ・みっつ, 枚 is refreshingly well behaved. Use the familiar number reading and add まい.

Listen across the whole set. The number changes; まい stays steady.
The question is short. The answer can be equally short.

A counter learned on the page becomes rather more convincing when it produces two tickets.
Japanese counts the physical photographs with 枚. The memories inside them, rather inconveniently, refuse to be counted so neatly.

Flatness is the useful clue—not the material. That is why very different objects can enter the same counter family.

A plate is not interesting because it is flat. It becomes interesting when somebody notices another person needs one.
Once you hear 枚 as a category rather than a vocabulary item, it begins appearing in surprisingly ordinary places.
At work, at home or while preparing something together, the number is often connected to what is actually needed.
Look around you for three things that could naturally be counted with 枚: perhaps paper, a photograph, a shirt, a plate or a card. Count them aloud. Then ask yourself what they have physically in common.
Find something flat or thin.
Say its quantity with 枚.
Imagine asking for one more: もう一枚ください。

Numbers seemed abstract until Japanese began asking you to notice what the things themselves are like.