05 June 2008

I Don't Cook

Not if I can help it, and my family prefers it that way. Seriously, I suck as a domestic goddess, hate to clean, never think about decorating, and like I said before, I don't cook.

There are a few things I can manage to throw into a pan or crockpot and have turn out fairly decent, but my family gets tired of eating the same things over and over and over. My mother once made the remark that I can cook three meals a day...frozen, canned, and take out...lololol.

I tried to make black beans and rice today. I love black beans and rice at a local restaurant, so I thought I'd try my hand. Found a recipe on the Internet, got the ingredients and put them together with keen anticipation. Now I cannot even stand the smell of the mess...it went out to feed the raccoons--if they'll even deign to eat it.

I invited friends over for dinner once years and years ago. Got everything ready to go and thought I was doing pretty good, until I carried the dish to the table, pulled off the lid, and gazed in horror at a huge roach lying dead on top of the broccoli. How in the hell did I not see the stupid thing while I was cooking? It was totally gross...the kind of eeeewwwwww moment that stays with you forever. Needless to say, we got take out.

And then there was the time I grew maggots in the sink. Really, a great plate of maggots. Now, granted they didn't grow on something I cooked, they somehow appeared on a plate of cat food I left in the sink for a couple of days. The smell was horrendous. My husband was so totally not a help, he went gagging into the bathroom, not to come out for an hour. And even after grinding them all down the disposal and adding plenty of bleach, I had this reoccurring terror that one day I would go into the kitchen and see a ten foot long thing come crawling out of the drainpipe.

Is it any wonder I'm traumatized? My poor children have grown up on whatever I have managed to bring home already cooked or pre-packaged and ready to nuke. No, I'm not proud of it, but a girl's got to know her limitations. Hi, I'm Gia, and I am a take-out food addict. I admit it, and I don't think I can change.

So if I ask you over for dinner--be afraid...be very afraid.
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