We actually ate a meal that I prepared myself this evening. It didn’t come from take-out even. Never mind that it wasn’t done until 8:00 but by ned, my kids ate real food tonight. Unlike this time last year, when I was making fantastic suppers (cause I was unemployed and had plenty of time to put it together) I have not been cooking much lately. I’m on Fall Break this week and I swore to myself I would actually feed my family while I was on break.
I say the kids ate but really the only one who ate was the Manchild. #2 deemed it gross and ate Goldfish crackers. Too bad for him cause the mashed potatoes were rather amazing, as my mashed potatoes tend to be. He just doesn’t realize yet how good stuff like that is.
I don’t pat myself on the back for a lot of things or come out and say “I’m good at this” but two things I will say about myself is that I’m one of the better spellers you will ever come across and I’m a good cook.
I often wonder what my kids will ask me to make for them when they come home from college. The Manchild likes my cooking and Holy Tara does, too, it just depends on what day it is and if she decides she’s going to be nice and appreciative of me. #2 digs my Meatloaf a lot. I do make what I deem to be the best meatloaf around.
My mom was always a good cook. We always ate nice suppers (it was “supper” at my house. I never remember us saying “Dinner’s “). We had a small, black dinner bell that hung over the couple steps that led to our kitchen. Mom rang that thing a lot to signal it was time for vittles. I haven’t thought about the bell in a looong time.
I usually liked everything my mom made EXCEPT I did not like that round steak stuff she made that was covered in tomatoes. Anytime I smell tomato paste, to this day, it makes me think of that. Everything else she did, was really good. We rarely had dessert. Usually when we did have some sort of dessert, I remember it being Jell-o Pudding she would fix and pour into tupperware bowls and they would set in the refrigerator.
I’m a different sort of cook from my mother. I guess I learned some things from her, but, really, I taught myself to cook when I was a teenager. My mom was and is not the type that likes anybody in the kitchen but her when food is being prepared.
I like to blame my lack of kitchen cleaning skills on the fact she was perpetually telling us to “Get out from under her feet.” That’s kinda a lame excuse because my sister can clean a kitchen like nobody’s bidness. Funny that she blames her not being much of a cook on the “Get out from under my feet” cry. (My kids and husband will tell you I have NEVER told any person or animal in my house to get out from under my feet. Nope. Never.