There was this woman, who would wake early and cook a four course breakfast for her family, they'd all stampede in, fill their bellies and leave without so much as offering to help clean up. I would be the only person bustin' suds. After breakfast, and I mean only about an hour after I had finished those dishes, this woman would take orders for lunch, and back to the stove she would go -- because of course no cold two pieces of bread surrounding peanut butter and jelly would do.
Lunch may not have consisted of as many courses as breakfast but it was filling, and once over, the kitchen/family room area was again a lonely place. She would insist on doing the dishes, and then take time out for herself to catch up on her soaps, while everyone else was about doing what they did. Around 4PM she would pry herself from her recliner and as if the recipes jumped out of a book, she would prepare a dinner that put at least a three star restaurant to shame.
Amidst the lackluster of shallow thank you's she appeared to be content that she had served her family for the day and retired leaving the dishes in the sink to soak until the next morning. Don't you know those dishes remained in that sink until she washed them the next morning.
Phew -- this all makes me tired just thinking about it.
I may not have learned to enjoy the art of cooking myself, but I did learn how not to be as a family, and I do welcome cooking for and with the real loves of my life.
Ciao Y'all
1 comment:
Hey Sis,
Love you and your website. Your enthusiam encourages me to work harder.
God Bless You,
Giana
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