(Day 27 of the blogging blitz. If you’ve just joined us, I’m on a mission to get that ol’ blogging mojo back by attempting to post daily for 30 days.)
(A bit of a “mummy post” today, so read no further if tales of other people’s children don’t do it for you. It has a tiny bit of cooking in it though, if that helps?).
Well, thanks for staying the rest of you.
Here is MC Senior grinning maniacally because she has finally been allowed into the kitchen. By herself.
Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you that was a massive step. For me.
Although I let the MCs help out occasionally in the kitchen, it’s always been very “directed”. They enjoy helping, and they really want to do more, but until very recently, I’ve resisted.
Oh, I could give you all sorts of excuses. “They’re just not ready,” or “They’ll burn/ cut/ chop/ fry themselves,” or “MC Senior has her head in the clouds most days and she’ll forget what she was cooking.”
The truth is much more mundane. I am a Class A control freak. Not so much in other parts of my life (oh, go away Mr. Kitchen Hand), but when it comes to the kitchen, I’m pretty much head chef. No one moves a spoon without my knowledge.
I’m not quite sure how it came about, but I think since I was the most efficient at preparing meals, the role of kitchen guardian fell my way.
And whenever MC Senior begged to be allowed to cook all by herself, I always had an excuse ready. Not today, too busy, too tricky, how about you just help? Besides, I consoled myself with the fact that I only really started cooking real food when I was in my 20s (but I’d been baking for much longer). You see, my mum was a little bit of a kitchen guardian too, and I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
But one day, when the begging became too persistent to ignore, I took a deep breath and locked myself in the bedroom. To stop myself from, watching, interrupting, interfering or nagging at the child as she baked cupcakes.
Mr. Kitchen Hand (who is totally not a control freak), was on oven duty, but MC Senior had free reign. She even washed up.
Much to my relief, the kitchen still stood, and nothing was broken. Although I did end up picking out bits of dough from a not-quite-washed spatula.
Once she conquered cupcakes, MC Senior then moved on to gingerbread, and then bean burgers for dinner one day.
I realise that pretty soon I can get her to make simple dinners a couple of times a week.
What was I so afraid of?