What's for dinner?
Last night I really outdid myself. I mean I prepared a meal for my Sweetpotato that I thought only my mother had mastered- sloppy joes, oven-baked freezer fries and canned pork-n-beans. It was truly a masterpiece.
Of course, if my mother had been plating the food, there would have been a dollop of plain applesauce with a dash of cinnamon oozing through the plate and sogging up the bun. You know those weird people who don't like their food to touch? Their mothers served a lot of applesauce.
Every time I mention something about my mother's cooking she gets all defensive about how bad she really was not, but it's not a big deal. I embrace my culinary shortfalls, revel in them really. Every time Sweetpotato cooks something better than me, I oooh and ahhh and drive another nail into my cooking coffin with glee. Consequently I am never asked to do anything more for dinner than pick up a phone. The minute folks know you can do something is the minute you've lost the battle. I bake, that's enough. I have but one domestic skill and I refuse to cultivate any others. Don't ask me to iron your shirt, clean your bathtub, paint your wall, but if you need a cookie honey, I am your girl!
My mother insists that when I have children things will change, like while sleep-deprived and breast-feeding I am suddenly going to be inspired to master the pot roast. Puh-leez. There is a greater chance of Britney Spears winning a Grammy than there is that I spontaneously stop acting in my own self-interest.
So for now, a random sloppy joe is the best you're gonna get out of me- and only if I happen to be in the grocery store for baking supplies in the first place! Look at it this way, everyone has their calling- some in the kitchen, others on the phone.
Hugs and Kisses Mum!
Of course, if my mother had been plating the food, there would have been a dollop of plain applesauce with a dash of cinnamon oozing through the plate and sogging up the bun. You know those weird people who don't like their food to touch? Their mothers served a lot of applesauce.
Every time I mention something about my mother's cooking she gets all defensive about how bad she really was not, but it's not a big deal. I embrace my culinary shortfalls, revel in them really. Every time Sweetpotato cooks something better than me, I oooh and ahhh and drive another nail into my cooking coffin with glee. Consequently I am never asked to do anything more for dinner than pick up a phone. The minute folks know you can do something is the minute you've lost the battle. I bake, that's enough. I have but one domestic skill and I refuse to cultivate any others. Don't ask me to iron your shirt, clean your bathtub, paint your wall, but if you need a cookie honey, I am your girl!
My mother insists that when I have children things will change, like while sleep-deprived and breast-feeding I am suddenly going to be inspired to master the pot roast. Puh-leez. There is a greater chance of Britney Spears winning a Grammy than there is that I spontaneously stop acting in my own self-interest.
So for now, a random sloppy joe is the best you're gonna get out of me- and only if I happen to be in the grocery store for baking supplies in the first place! Look at it this way, everyone has their calling- some in the kitchen, others on the phone.
Hugs and Kisses Mum!
4 Comments:
hmmmm. Is that what we're having for christmas dinner dear? Don't forget the cheese toast-must have all food groups.
i'm thinking about asking big pam if we can have bbq for christmas dinner. you think she'd go for it?
I'd say anything she can order for Smithfields sounds like damn fine holiday food!
Britney Spears has won a Grammy for "Toxic", winning Spears her first ever Grammy in the category of Best Dance Recording!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
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