1 Cup of Smoke, 3/4 Cup of Carbon, and a Teaspoon of Sad Attempt

Remember when you were young and mom wasn’t home, so dad was in charge of dinner? Pizza Hut it is then, right?

In my family, it was the opposite.  When my dad wasn’t home to cook the meals, my mom and I would splurge on chicken balls and rice.  Like mother like daughter, I’ve followed in her footsteps.

My home cooked meals consist of peanut butter and jam sandwiches, canned chili, and Campbell’s Cream of Broccoli Soup.  Sometimes when I’m feeling motivated, I’ll scramble some eggs.

My best friend’s mom bought me dozens of recipe books for my birthday, hoping that I’d use them.  I bought the ingredients to make a casserole, which should count for something.  But most of the time, my cupboards are filled with-air.

I could neverImage be a traditional housewife because I can’t roll a pie crust, cook a roast or make homemade bread. I’m more of a dial a number, and ask for Combo C kind of girl.  My friends and family have tried to teach me how to cook, I just don’t have the patience.  Why make a stir fry, when you can eat peanut butter straight from the jar? It’s cheaper, and a lot less time consuming. One of my friends gave me a crash course on baking cupcakes.  She baked the cupcakes, and I licked the beaters.

I have accepted the fact that I cannot cook, and so have those around me.  In middle school I microwaved a box of Kraft Dinner, and forgot to add water.  I baked chocolate chip cookies, and decided I didn’t need flour.  Last summer, I ate cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  I was sent to the hospital with pains in my abdomen, followed by an ultrasound and a severe invasion of privacy.

In university, my roommates and I would cook breakfast on Saturdays.  I was in charge of the toast.  When I put the toast on a plastic plate to stay warm in the oven, I was demoted to washing dishes.

I have successfully cooked a couple of chicken breasts, cut up some vegetables, and boiled a few potatoes in my day.  And I must admit, it is rewarding to see a plate filled with-nutrients.  But sometimes a bowl of Cheerios does the trick. You just have to be prepared for the consequences.


About lizzzfraser

I love writing stories-lots of stories.
This entry was posted in Daily Thangs. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to 1 Cup of Smoke, 3/4 Cup of Carbon, and a Teaspoon of Sad Attempt

  1. Pingback: ‘Tis the season to be baking « erikamiller

  2. Pingback: ‘Tis the season to be baking » Erika Miller

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