I don’t know when or how it happened. One minute, I was a lazy, one-trick-pony cook. Now, not only do I sort of enjoy cooking, but I’ve also become a jealous cook. Say what?! I want to be the one to do all of the cooking. Okay, that’s a lie. But when I am cooking, I don’t want my boyfriend anywhere near me or my food. When something tastes delicious, I want to be able to take ALL the credit for it. Yes, I’m a selfish cooking fool.
I tend to do my best cooking when he’s not home. I always forget something when he’s around. He’ll point it out, which I suppose is good, but why, oh why, must he always be around when I mess up? I never forget anything major, but it still bothers me. He’s very nice when he points out that I suck my mistake, and he’s always willing to help, BUT NO! I don’t want his stinkin’ help. I want to do it myself.
Even if I’m making something simple, like rice, I still don’t want him around, even if it’s just to turn the rice. “What are you doing? That’s MY rice. I’ll turn it, thank you very much.” I KNOW, it’s ridiculous. I never thought I could get so possesive over food. Uncooked food. Me, the girl who used to sit back while my boyfriend did all the cooking. Those were good times. What’s gotten into me?!
The only thing I’ll let him do every time is anything fried. The noise, the smell, the splatter, the potential burns…I’ll pass, thank you. However, the other day, he was frying away, and I looked at the meat with sad eyes. “I wish it was me. I should have at least seasoned you. You could have been my masterpiece.” Yeah, I have issues…what else is new? Good thing you guys accept me, flaws and all. You do, right? Right? Hello?
Have a great weekend, and, um, I love you.