I am playing Three Truths and One Lie with Whimsy and minions this week.
We are now at the point where I tell you the stories behind each of the truths/lie from Tuesday’s post. Numero Uno:
“I cook meals for Brad and the kids about once a year.”
Sadly, dudes, this one is true.
Actually, I started doubting my calculations, so I asked Brad:
Me: “Hey, how often do I cook?”
Brad: “I don’t know. I’d say once a month.”
Me: “Once a month?! Really?!”
Brad: “I don’t know. When was the last time you cooked?”
Me: “I guess when I cooked that pasta tuna baked stuff and posted the picture on my blog.”
Brad: “How long ago was that?”
Me: “I don’t know. Like a month ago.” [Editor's note: Actually, one month two days.]
Brad: “So…”
Me: “But I hadn’t cooked anything before that since forever.”
Brad: “Well, yeah. So, maybe once a season?”
Me: “Really?! That often?! I said about once a year on my blog.”
Brad: “Well. Yeah. Probably.”
I think he was trying to be nice. Probably because he thought I overestimated.
Anyway.
Yeah. About once a year.
Over our whole time together, it’d be more than that, on average, because of this time for about four months when I was writing my dissertation, pregnant with Anneke and big as a house, when I decided I was going to teach myself how to cook.
I had been teaching an undergraduate course half time, but I quit after the fall semester because I knew I’d never finish my dissertation if I didn’t devote myself to it full time. I wrote all day every day while Brad worked. Kieran was in daycare.
I forced myself to write a minimum of, I think, six pages a day. At the end of every day, if I’d written six pages, I’d let myself watch Dr. Phil. Not that I was really into Dr. Phil. It was just that it was the most escapist thing on TV at the time when I’d usually be ready to quit for the day.
Anyway, whether I got to watch Dr. Phil or not, when it was over at 5, I’d start dinner. I looked on allrecipes regularly and tried lots of stuff from there. Nothing too fancy, but RECIPES. Even now, if I look in my allrecipes recipe box, about 90% of the recipes were added between January and May 2004.
(By the way, it appears that using the word recipe three times in one paragraph is my own personal max before the word starts to look ridiculous, and I have to look back at the allrecipes tab to make sure the word really IS spelled that way. If you were wondering.)
Before that, I thought I couldn’t cook. There are stories in my family about stupid things I’ve done in the kitchen. Like when I called my mom at work when I was in high school and asked her how to heat soup. Or something.
I learned in those four months in 2004 that I could, in fact, learn to cook, but I still hated it. I know a lot of people hate cooking. I just happen to live with someone who’s willing to do it (and is waaaay better at it than me).
Brad is a lucky, lucky man.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Dude, he really IS a lucky guy, because he’s married to fabulous you!
And that tuna noodle thing? Wow.
This might be another difference between us, because I do like to cook. Er— I like to BAKE, I tolerate cooking.
I enjoy cooking but my fibromyalgia does not. Adam cooks almost every meal, but I cook whenever I have the energy. Not often during dinner time does my energy appear, stupid fucking thing!