As a kid, we rarely ate out at restaurants.
Primarily because it’s super expensive to feed a family of six; three of whom are growing boys.
But also because we suspect that my three brothers were raised by a pack of wolves and my parents probably didn’t find it rewarding to drop 60 bucks on a meal that was accompanied by constant squabbling and the sound of several straws getting sucked on via their empty glasses.
To my mother’s credit, she didn’t radiate the resentment that I do every time I have to prepare a meal that involves more than 1.5 steps (Open package and place in microwave. Press start).
Whenever I mention my extreme dislike of cooking, folks will say, “But it’s EASY. You just have to follow a recipe/use good ingredients/give a crap”.
First of all, it’s not easy. People who say that are either 1) smarter than me because they obviously have some sort of advanced problem-solving skill that I don’t have, or 2) dumber than me because they’ve spent time mastering a skill that is way less important than most other skills. Namely, programming a DVR, cutting a baby’s fingernails without making them bleed, or learning how to look busy when you’re not.
Just to mention a couple of things.
Second of all, even if it is easy, I don’t care. I mean, swiping a toilet brush around a toilet bowl is easy, but you don’t want to do that, do you? And that takes way less time than cooking an entire meal.
difficult task + lack of giving a crap = skill that continues to remain unlearned
See, it’s science! (Or math. Whatever.)
.
Okay, so here is the conversation that took place yesterday after I picked up Sydney from school.
Sydney: “Mom, what are you going to cook for Thanksgiving dinner?”
Me: Well, I’m not planning to COOK, per say. I’m primarily going to eat. You see, Mommy works very hard to be a charming and amusing person so that we get invited to other people’s homes for major holidays.
Sydney: Yeah, that’s what I told Mrs. Hendry.
Me: Aww, you told her that I’m charming and amusing? That’s sweet.
Sydney: No, I told her you’re going to cook nothing for Thanksgiving.
Me: What? You told her that I won’t make anything for Thanksgiving? Why would you tell her that?
Sydney: Well, she asked what our mommies are going to make for Thanksgiving dinner and I told her that you will make nothing.
Me: First of all, that is sexist. Not all mommies cook. Maybe daddies should get off their rear ends and go whip up some stuffing or a pumpkin pie or something. Second of all, I may not actually cook, but I always make sure that we spend time with someone who CAN cook. This year, Aunt Amy and Uncle Kevin will be doing the cooking. I will work very hard, hovering around making ridiculous comments like, “which end of this stick-thingy to I use to stir? or “why do you keep gloves in this drawer near the oven?”. That’s WORK, you know. Some might even call it a form of art.
Sydney: Yeah. But you’re still cooking nothing for Thanksgiving.
I know that what she’s saying is actual fact. But she’s just so judge-y about it.
I am so going to eat her slice of pie.