When it comes to domestic chores, whipping up dinner is at the bottom of my list. I’d much rather scrub a filthy toilet or tackle an Everest of laundry than deal with dinner prep. If left to my own devices, I’d happily sip a strong gin and tonic paired with a bag of pretzels for my evening meal. However, my kids require more than just spirits for sustenance; they need protein and, occasionally, something green. As the (mostly) stay-at-home parent, the kitchen duty often falls on my shoulders, though I approach it with the enthusiasm of a cat in water. Here’s a rundown of my biggest gripes:
- Grocery Shopping: Scouring the aisles of stores like Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, and Safeway each week feels like a descent into chaos. From the fierce competition for parking spots to the embarrassment of leaving my shopping list at home, shopping is a nightmare. I’d rather endure a root canal than navigate the produce section while forgetting my reusable bags.
- The Nutritional Balancing Act: In my quest to be a good parent, I strive to create well-rounded meals for my family, but it’s a constant struggle. Not everyone is on board with the same vegetable choices, so my attempts often fall flat. If they manage to eat two of the five food groups at dinner, I consider it a win—cereal, anyone?
- Handling Raw Chicken: Chicken is a staple in our household, and I’ve perfected three go-to recipes: Indian Chicken, Fiesta Chicken, and Roast Chicken. Yet, the thought of touching raw chicken makes my skin crawl. With its slimy texture and unsettling color, I’d prefer to wade through a sea of dirty diapers any day.
- Cooked Chicken: Because, let’s be honest—juicy, perfectly seared steak is where it’s at. Just saying.
- The Stench: After cooking, I always end up smelling like a greasy diner cook. No matter how much I try to mitigate it with a hair tie and the kitchen hood fan, I smell like a medley of curry, garlic, and, heaven forbid, roast chicken for days. Not exactly appealing.
- Wardrobe Casualties: Somehow, I manage to splatter marinara sauce or grease on every shirt I own while cooking. My cooking escapades usually result in a need for new tops. Yes, I should probably invest in an apron.
- Aprons—No Thanks: I have a strong aversion to aprons. They feel too retro, reminiscent of those 1950s sitcoms where the mom is always cooking or dusting. Wearing an apron makes my feminist instincts bristle, so I’d rather risk ruining another shirt.
- Dinner Time Disappearing Act: After my kids declare they’re “starving” every few minutes for half an hour, they vanish when it’s time to eat. Suddenly, they’re engrossed in Minecraft or their favorite shows, completely ignoring the dinner I’ve prepared.
- The Meal Rejection: Despite my best efforts, my lovingly crafted dinner often goes untouched. Either they’ve secretly indulged in candy from a recent birthday party or they’ve suddenly decided they no longer enjoy my famous Indian Chicken.
- The Cleanup: Dirty plates and food remnants all over the table—wait, isn’t the cook exempt from cleanup duties? Awesome! Now, where’s that wine?
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In summary, cooking dinner can feel like a never-ending cycle of chaos, from grocery shopping to meal prep and even cleanup. It’s a task that often leads to frustration, but it’s all part of the parenting journey.
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