Well, well, guess who made something YUMMY yesterday, awesome readers!
I cooked something and believe it or not, my son said, “Wow!”
Yup. True story.
What?!! You don’t believe me? I would NEVER lie to you, my awesomenesses!
Well, unless if you were holding a gun to my head and asking me where I keep “the jewels”. Then I might lie and say that I keep them at my neighbour’s. (Sorry neighbour.)
But since no one’s holding a gun to my head, here’s how the cooking thing happened . . .
It all started when I was sitting at my desk yesterday afternoon, working on my book. Only I wasn’t really working on my book because the words were stuck in some constipated corner of my mind.
Suddenly I heard a shout from the kitchen:
“There’s nothing to eat around here!”
It was my son.
“Cereal!” I shouted back.
PS. When I’m quasi-writing I often speak in monosyllables. Even when said monosyllables have more than one syllable – such as with the word CE-RE-AL.
But when I looked up and saw my son standing at the door of my office holding an empty box of Lucky Charms, I realized that it was time to take a break and stop staring at the blank screen of my laptop.
I got up from my desk and as I walked towards the kitchen, could feel the determination of a prize-fighting chef lurking within with every footstep.
PS. Possibly “prize-fighting chef” in this case means “frustrated writer”.
PPS. Also, my son and I watched The Incredible Hulk over the weekend so possibly some of my attitude may have been a residue from that.
And that, dear readers, is how I got to make something “wow”.
Here’s a pic of . . . well I don’t really have a name for it but it involves chicken. And noodles. Oh and ginger. And some saucy stuff I bought at Club Price.
Notice the halo thingy around the bowl? Even the heavens recognized the greatness of this dish!
My son’s response (after the “wow”):
“Why can’t you make stuff like this more often?”
His words made me feel proud. Actually more than just “proud”. I felt DELIGHTED. I felt like . . .
But then he said this:
“I think the worst thing you’ve ever made was that lasagne last week . . . No actually that’s just the worst thing you’ve ever made recently. I could probably write a book on the stuff you’ve made that was bad.”
That’s when I realized that me wearing a cape in the kitchen is just ridiculous.