My Children The Chefs

My 13-year-old son is finally showing an interest in cooking and can you believe he cooks better than me?! The other night we were giving him a hard time because he made a sandwich for his friend, his sister, and himself and then commenced to eat in front of me and my husband. Did you catch that? He not once thought to ask us if we were hungry or even offer to make us a sandwich.

We jokingly teased him about forgetting us. He just giggled and sheepishly said, “I was hungry.” Then he giggled again, finished his sandwich and went into the kitchen where he began scouring the refrigerator.

When I asked him what he was doing, he said, “I’m going to cook you something to eat.” He asked his dad a couple of questions as he pulled everything out of the cupboards and put the pan on the stove. With a bit of skepticism, he began making his very first meal.

And to his surprise and ours, he cooked the most tender, tastiest chicken I have had in over a year! It was absolutely delicious. Not believing me, he asked for a bite of my chicken, and then asked if he could finish my plate. I, of course, reluctantly gave up my delicious meal.

My daughter on the other hand—at the young age of 9—still has to learn the art of cooking. While she loves the idea of cooking, she has the patience of her mom—none. She throws things together without reading the directions and then looks on in disgust as her “creations” look more like mud pies than something eatable.

While her meals aren’t digestible, they’re just as wonderful as my son’s. For you see, it’s truly a joy watching her get pleasure from trying to get it right, all on her own.

Tonight, as I write this, my son is once again in the kitchen, taking orders from his dad as he prepares his very first FAMILY meal! It’s amazing how things can change on a moment’s notice. And my daughter is begging to make her grandparents a cake.

I can just see it now, a personal chef of my very own! No more eating out and gaining weight. No more expensive dinners where we wished we would have just ate at home. No more cooking my own meals only to be disappointed in the taste. No more complaining that it took 2 hours to prepare, 15 minutes to eat, and 30 minutes to clean up. And the best food in the world, right here at my finger tips and a moment’s notice. Hey, a mother can dream, can’t she?