One the biggest reasons I haven't been blogging much lately was because I was partying down with the family to the build up of my parents retiring in Africa. Saturday afternoon the weree off for new adventures saving the world.
Now who am I going to cook for? Mom and Dad came up 5 days a week for dinner, they showed up at 6 and were out the door by 6:30 with a smile on their face. My youngest son, Everett, knows no life where his grandma and grandpa weren't at the dinner table. I will be liable to burst into tears tonight if he asks if Grandma and Grandpa are coming to dinner.
I think one of the reason that people don't like to cook is because no one appreciates their effort. A mom goes to all this effort to prepare a healthy home cooked meal, and the kids are complaining. They want mac and cheese with hotdogs. The husband is indifferent and emotionless, when dinner is over he puts his plate in the sink and goes about his business. All the while, mom has barely just sat down to eat her own creation. Makes the whole thing no fun at all. Might as well be doing another under appreciated task like folding clothes (you mean those clothes don't magically appear back in the closet?)
Well in my case, I had two extremely grateful, food loving people to cook for!! I didn't have to cook plain boring food that only children like. They didn't mind when I experimented with new things, and always complimented the food. Having people like that really makes working the kitchen fun.
So alas, they are in Africa now. So thanks Mom and Dad for coming up to dinner every night (and paying for the food to boot!) and appreciating my efforts. I will miss you. I weep. I think after a couple of weeks of having your chairs empty at the dinner table, and I scrape the plates of the gourmet food my children didn't eat I will weep some more. I am proud of you guys and you two are the greatest examples to me and Fairb. At least now that they are gone, maybe they will read my blog for once! I will still cook the same fancy food, my kids can suck it. I don't do hot dogs, sorry kids.