Cooking Lessons

“Honey, I want you to start learning to cook.”

My pronouncement was met with a blank stare and a somewhat less than enthusiastic “OK, sure.”

Thinking we’d start small and with something she likes to eat I chose macaroni and cheese for the first lesson. Let me clarify that. I chose BOXED Velveeta Shells and Cheese. There’s nothing much simpler than that, right? Boil water, toss in macaroni, let cook, drain and stir in cheese. No measuring. No oven. No complications.

The only part of THAT lesson she was really interested in was stirring the cheese in and, even at that, her attention span was 3.5 seconds. Well, it was a start. You don’t want to push a new student too far on the first lesson, you know.

Life moves in mysterious ways. Lo and behold, the fires of a chef were lit within my daughter, where they smoldered quietly for a few days until bursting into full flame. I saw the results of that fire shortly.

“Chickie! I’m home – where are you? Chickie? Chickie!”

Getting no answer I wandered into the kitchen to get a coke. Thud. That’s the sound my purse makes when it hits the floor. Gasp. That’s the sound I make when viewing a kitchen in ruins.

There were 7 – count ‘em – 7 dirty pans in the sink and on the counters. 23 pieces of silverware. 14 towels. 1 mixer. 9 glasses. Everything was covered with a fine dusting of powder that turned out to be flour. There were 3 piles of flour on the floor in front of the sink. One pile had begun to turn to paste since it had gotten wet with sink overspray. The other two piles had trails of little white kitty paw prints leading from them and trailing across the kitchen towards the living room. The dog was in the far doorway contentedly munching on eggshells.

The focal point of this grand design was sitting atop the stove. There, in an uncommonly clear space, sat a 9×9 cake pan. I was drawn to the pan. I looked down at it. There it sat, in all its culinary glory – the creation that was the cause of the maelstrom. I could tell from the forlorn looking cast-off box that what I was looking at should have been a cake of some variety. It was the right color for a yellow cake all right. But that’s where the resemblance ended. The middle was doughy. No. The middle still closely resembled uncooked batter. The edges were crusty and rock hard. There were a few scattered sections that looked as if they might have somehow morphed into a cake-like state…but those sections had been cut out and, presumably, eaten.

As tears filled my eyes, the door slammed.

“Hi, Mom! I’m back! Did you get some of the cake I baked? I saved you a piece!”

“Thank you, Dear, but I just went on a diet. Maybe next time, OK?”

It took 5 hours to clean the various dishes, get the last vestige of hardened flour off the floor and chip the rock formations out of the cake pan.

And you guys think I am a simple slave to a teenager’s whims – unthinkingly spoiling her by catering to her food whims….. Oh no. There is a lot of thought behind this. For my part, I don’t know how many of those messes my kitchen could take per week. For Chickie’s part….she maintains innocence, but I didn’t raise any stupid kids. I did, however, apparently raise one very clever one. I’m thinking her very first official job should be at McDonald’s or Burger King. That ought to be a treat to watch!

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hahahaha……. amusing…. my mom would have a heart attack if i did that to the kitchen… but it looks like that anyway!

She IS a cagey one, isn’t she!… 😉

could she be doing what my husband did when he didn’t want to help with the laundry during my pregnancy? destroy so as to not be asked again? i love your humor, would love to develope some:)

Oh boy…you did ask for it didn’t you? Very funny story, although I’m sure the clean up wasn’t the least bit amusing.! ~:)

September 10, 2000

Its the thought that counts oft times. If I had done that, I know two things that would happen, 1 my mum will scream and yell at me and 2 my mum will scream and yell at me even louder…=) I enjoyed reading this!!

BBe
September 10, 2000

Do we know our kids, or what? 🙂

So you forgot the “cleaning-up-after-yourself” part of the lesson, huh? Hugz

LMAO!! Too too funny, Sunshine. LOL. She’s gotcha. If she makes a mess, you’ll keep cooking for her. I’m working on this with #2 Daughter, who loves to cook and is getting better at cleaning up after herself. *hugs*

::looking around, lifting notes and peering underneath:: I KNOW I was here earlier and signed in. I came here from my favourites list. My note vanished. Dammit. With a smile…Torin now Unsigned

LOL, yes this is one of motherhood’s great challenges. Best of luck. Bawahahahaha.

*laugh* Hmm…our kitchen ends up about the same if my brother gets hungry. Personally I’ve perfected the art of microwave meals…TEO Unsigned

OH my!!! I’m serious dearest Wolfie, she needs some culinary teaching from the green froggie, who learned from her grand dad, the pastry chef extrodinaire from none other than _the_ new york bakery! 🙂 mannhattan

grey kittens?? Save me TWO! please grey or black and white or white or black. 🙂 no orange. 🙂 PLEASE!

I take back my original question. =) You poor thing!

That is really cute SW, the cleaning up part of cooking is also important, but the job at Mickey D’s should help. 🙂 Love,

Oh, what a mess! It sounds like my first cooking experiment. For your sake, and the sake of your kitchen, I hope this kid takes Martha Steward Lessons….Without getting the attitude! LOL Shalom,

Suddenly I feel blessedly fortunate that my mother taught me beginning at age 10 to cook AND clean up as I go! (Thank you, Mom!)

If she had only decorated it with “I love you Mom” like I did the first time I totalled the kitchen. It kind of takes the sting out of the mess.

I don’t think I have ever read a more humorous and descriptive take on a daughter-induced domestic disaster. Congratulations on not being separated from your sense of humor!

Big grins…

I learned to cook at the tender age of 24 with a hungry three year old in the house and my mum on the other end of the phone!! I’m pretty damn good at it now though 🙂

September 13, 2000

You should wander by again, dear Sunshine. Tomorrow’s entry is posted a little early. Smiling.

Hey! We’re related! LOL

Thanks for the visit, Sunshine. My parents were both excellent cooks, but they never let me into the kitchen until it was time to clean up, do the pots and pans and dishes. So I had to learn to cook after I got married. Now I enjoy it.

*looking through my notes* sniffle You haven’t been by once since I came back to OD, SW. sniffle. **hugs** Emeera ~nsi~

Hah! Leave her alone in the house for 3 1/2 weeks and she’ll soon learn how to cook!Followed you from Torin’s diary (*scritch*), may I introduce myself? This first entry caused me great amusement – I’ll be back!

Stay with it, remember that the cook cleans up the kitchen too, usually sorts that one out.

September 15, 2000

Oh dear (embarrassed blink)–that wasn’t a time machine back to my house you happened to step in, was it?

I think you should get her a job as dishwasher at a 5 star restaurant. You can wait for her to finish and the cook can give you nibbles while you are the doting, patient parent. 🙂

September 15, 2000

She liked her cake enough to eat it and offer you a piece! I remember when our kids fought over who got to lick the cake batter. It tasted like candy to me. Found E’s apple cinnamon muffin recipe. Added it to K’s last post

I can just see it now. ohmygod

Mns
September 16, 2000

ahahahahaha.. oh yeah, whenever daughter makes anything here she leaves everything for the diswashing elf. seems they just don’t make the connection that preparing and eating also means cleaning up.

Help Chickie get a job at Dairy Queen & when she comes home with her workshirt all splattered with milk shakes of every flavor, you can easily lick off a very interesting dessert,unless the cat/dog beat ya to it.

It’s fun to look back at one’s life and be surprised or even astounded at what we did at different periods.

Oh my GOD NOOOOOO!!!! Don’t make me ride those cows!!!!!!!!!

Great entry. You are a great Mum…lotsa love.

I learned FF&F when I was very small. My mother used to sing it around the house, along with a lot of other songs from the 40’s. Should we be worried, dear Sunshine, or simply bask in the excellent company? cont’d…

Would you have recognized song lyrics from “Phantom of the Paradise”? With a grin…Torin the Unsigned

well . . . at least she could eat some of it. 😀