I don’t mind cooking. Although, I usually do prefer to get it over and done with quickly, and with as little mess as possible.
Cooking is a necessary part of life, for sure. I can deftly whizz up a meal, bake, and follow recipes. And as long as the meal/cake/dessert is not too fancy or requires too much fussing about, then I can swing it.
Better though, Hubster is a great cook, loves to fiddle around in the kitchen and therefore cooks most nights. Recently, he’s even been organising meal plans and doing the grocery shopping. Can you hear my sighs of relief?? What a man!
But what I desperately avoid is to cook with the children. Yes, I am a bad mum. My patience is too flimsy, I can’t stand the questions, the mess, and losing the space to move around in the kitchen. Also, because I have three children, they each often want to be cooking with me at the same time. The cries of ‘But I want to help!’ and ‘What about me!’ suck the will to live from me.
I know this oversight on my part will bite me in future days. I should be instilling in my children basic survival skills, cooking high among them. If they are taught how to prepare basic meals, there will come a day in the future when in answer to their question, ‘What’s for dinner?’ I can respond with, ‘No idea. Go make something.’ Plus, once they move out and into their own places, they’ll know how to prepare basic meals.
Again, Hubster to the rescue. The kids are often in the kitchen with him, and he patiently instructs them with the basics. They watch and learn and participate, then proudly tell us all that they helped create the meal we’re all enjoying. This adds to my guilt. Until it comes time to clean up. Then I start muttering and grumbling again.
How about you? Do you like to cook?