Tuesday, May 16, 2006
So, I have these issues about cooking which I'm trying to get over. When my mom moved out when I was 11, I took over the cooking and cleaning in our house. Which sounds all responsible and adult sometimes, but really it was a nightmare for me, and it was entirely forced. My dad would shout at me if I forgot to defrost dinner after I got home from school, even if it was because I was doing my homework instead. More shouting if the vegetables got cold while I was waiting for the porkchops or whatever to finish, again if it was some half-assed attempt to throw something together (which it usually was). I'd be under a lot of pressure to maintain good grades, which I always had up until high school (even good girls have to rebel at some stage), cook acceptable dinners and keep the house tidy, but I really couldn't cope. Most weeks we'd end up with the same thing (whatever was easiest) 2 or 3 times a week (always ended in more shouting). Anyway, so for me, the thought of cooking always seemed like bringing back the destruction of my childhood (I know, melodrama to the extreme), so when my husband said he likes (ENJOYS!) cooking, I thought how perfect! Until now, when I'm home all day long and he comes home past 7 from work sometimes, even I can see how unfair it is on him. I don't know how to make happy cooking memories, I never had any. But, I'll still give it a go.. I suppose.