Who really needs to cook...

Well, apparently I do!

It's not that I don't like to cook.  It's just that I'm not really all that good at it.  I have my favorites that I like to cook.  Spaghetti (not in a crock-pot, bad bad mistake), pork chops, salad (although I don't think that qualifies as cooking) taco's and grilled chicken, to name a few.

But it's the entire process.  Buying the groceries, prepping the food, cooking the food, cleaning the kitchen.  It's all so time consuming.  Now the sad twist to this is I don't like frozen foods either, they are nasty.  And I don't really care for fast foods.

The perfect solution, of course, is to hire a cook.  But that doesn't seem to be in the budget.

Buy a cook book you say, oh I have those, plenty of those.  And this will sound really bad, but some don't have pictures and then I don't know if it looks right.  And most of the time it really doesn't taste right either.  You can now tell me that I have to keep trying, that I'm not going to get it right the first time.  Whatever, I don't really have the patience for that, and I'm giving you the evil eye for suggesting it!

My sister, she cooks.  Maybe I should move closer to her, that way I can stop of all the time, like I used to when I was a single mom and was tired of hot dogs and oat meal.

But honestly, I don't think this is my fault.  My mom really didn't like our help that much unless it was Christmas or a special occasion.  Other than that we really just made a mess and I really preferred to be outside riding my bicycle.  It seemed to work out for us both.

Here is the sad part of all of this.  My son, my dear sweet boy, brings a girl home for Christmas this year and I am making dinner.  All of it by myself.  Oh vey.

The ham was good.  I can bake a ham.  The sweet potatoes...I don't know, I don't like them so I just make them as the recipe states, and my husband eats them.  But come to find out not so long ago, it seems he will eat just about anything I cook in fear that if he speaks up I'll stop cooking all together.

The potatoes, what potatoes, I forgot to make those...there was other stuff too, but honestly I can't remember what it was.  Needless to say, we should have ordered pizza.  Maybe with canadian bacon and those round sweet fruit things.  Pineapples.  That's what they're called.  Whew!

Now because I didn't like the kitchen as a child, I'm suffering as an adult.  I say suffering, but really it isn't like any of us is starving...Well, my kids tell me they are, but they aren't.  They just don't like what we have and the fact that we don't have a bunch of junk food.

So is there a lesson in all of this?  Yes there is.  My children, if you are reading this (Maverick does read my blogs) then please marry someone who can cook, then I can come to your house for New Years Eve, Valentines Day, St. Patrick's Day, Easter, Memorial Day, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and let's not forget birthdays.

Don't roll your eyes at me!  There are three of you...I can make my rounds, spread the love.  And as a token of my appreciation, I'll clean your house (maybe just the kitchen) and I'll babysit too.  Seems fair to me.