Take your pick. Anyway you cut it, boil it, bake it, fry it, whatev, I am DONE.
My beloved husband is considering divorcing my ass if I continue to eat starch. Not really. But I would not blame him one bit if he did. I am, how shall I put it, a bit gaseous. And, um, slightly stinky. Well, hell. If I can’t talk about it to you guys, who do I tell? Anyhoo. It’s pretty bad. Really bad.
I don’t really have any idea how to broach the subject with Mummy Dearest. She has always prided herself on being a good cook. And she is. Truly. But if I eat another potato I may throw myself off the deck. The thing is? My Diddy will only eat certain veggies. Potato’s being one of them. I know. It makes me nuts.
Why don’t I cook, you ask? Because my Diddy doesn’t really care for what I cook. He doesn’t say so in so many words, but I can sorta tell. I use a lot of olive oil and fresh garlic in my cooking. I also make a lot of things he will not eat. Things involving turkey sausage, fresh veggies, whole wheat pasta, etc. We generally eat healthier food. We like lots of fresh fruits and veggies. I fry nothing. I am the opposite of my mother in the kitchen in every way. The one night I did cook? Was okay. The boys loved it. But I didn’t feel like it would be something I would be doing again while we were here.
Which really sucks. I miss cooking. Very much. I am already planning the things I will be making the first week in our new place. And the good news is that that looks like it will be happening sooner than we thought. Like maybe in the next few weeks. We are going to look next weekend. If everything goes as planned, we will be moving at the end of the month.
Keep your fingers crossed. And maybe your toes, too.