I am sick and tired of preparing meals for people who don’t appreciate them!  Do you hear me? (Well, I guess, technically, I should say “Do you read me?”)  The day in, day out preparing of the meals is getting really old, really fast.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love to cook.  Really, I do.  I used to sell Pampered Chef and really enjoyed it.  (By the way, if you need Pampered Chef, go to pamperchef.biz/fredmanskitchen.  How do you like that shameless plug for my friend?)  I loved trying the new recipes and using all the cool kitchen gadgets.  It was fun, and from it, I developed a love of cooking.

I just get sick of the question, “What’s for supper?”  The Beetle must ask me that at least 5 times a day.  Then, no matter what I say, someone says, “Yuck!”  It’s very frustrating.

Now, Mr. Everything, being practically perfect in every way, will eat everything. (You had to see that one coming.)  But, the rest of the them?  Well, not so much.

The Beetle won’t eat fruit.  Ever.  For any reason.  I mean nothing.  He hasn’t eaten fruit since he was two years old.  I used to try to hide it in recipes, but he was way smarter than that.  I would buy fruit chew snacks with real fruit juice in them.  Nope!  I tried yogurt covered raisins.  He would suck the yogurt off and spit out the raisins.  Fast forward thirteen years, and the kid still spits out anything made with fruit.  He did discover Cracker Barrel biscuits and grape jelly a few years ago.  He could (and still can) eat his weight in those.  He gave me false hope that he would start eating other fruit items.  I was sadly mistaken. 

Besides fruit, the Beetle won’t eat anything too mushy, although he likes mashed potatoes finally.  He won’t eat most meats if they are too chewy.  He won’t eat most vegetables.  Green beans, mashed potatoes and an occasional kernel (literally) of corn are the ones he will eat. (And, I know…potatoes and corn count as starch and not vegetable.  I’m grasping at straws here.)

Then, we have the Goose.  The Goose likes different things depending on the day.  Pretty much, whatever I’m cooking is what she doesn’t like that day.  She only eats Kraft macaroni and cheese until she is in the mood for Velvetta, and then she won’t eat Kraft.  She eats some meats, but if you ask her what she wants, the answer is steak.  She will always eat steak, unless it is not prepared to her liking.  She’ll eat some fruits, if she’s in the mood.  She’ll try some vegetables if they strike her fancy.  Her tastes change from day to day and minute to minute.  I’m convinced that her goal in life is to make me grey-headed.  She’s achieving that goal quickly.  I have reminded her that there are starving children all over the world who would love my cooking.  She sweetly asked if it was possible to Fed-Ex it to them.  (She managed to pull this off in a sincere way that made me ponder whether it was possible.)

I made the fatal mistake when my kids were little of saying that if they didn’t like what I cooked, they could fix something else themselves.  The result?  No one tries what I’ve cooked.  They just fix something they want.  Why am I cooking?  I should have been like Mommy Dearest and made them sit at the table until they ate!  New moms…Take note.  Be cruel to your kids when it comes to eating.  If you don’t, you’ll end up crazy like me.  And, by the way, if you don’t get the reference to Mommy Dearest, google it.  Strangely, my mother used to watch that movie with my sister and me every year when it came on TV, back in the days before VCRs.  Why she wanted us to watch that movie, I have no idea!  Maybe she was hoping it would scare us into submission.

Even the dog is picky.  I dropped butter on the floor a little while ago, and the dog wouldn’t eat butter.  He won’t eat hot dogs (Cannibalism?).  He won’t eat popcorn.  He won’t eat rice or noodles, unless he is in the mood.  I try to remind him that his job is to be a vacuum cleaner when I spill food, but he's not buying it.  He turns his nose up and walks away.

The guinea pigs are picky.  Really.  I can’t make this stuff up.  They won’t eat asparagus or grapes or tomatoes.  They won’t eat corn or apples or pears.  I have reminded them that they could be living on the streets in Peru.  They just fling poo at me when I talk to them.

The turtle only eats a certain type of food and only certain fish, though I haven’t figured out what kind that is.  When we left for a month in June, we bought a bunch of feeder fish and left them in the tank with the turtles.  One fish (AKA The Murderer…That’s a different story for a different day, but that’s why I only referred to one turtle instead of two) has grown to fit the large tank and is three times as big as the turtle.  The other fish are having babies and swimming happily around the turtle who has apparently become vegan.  We now have about 30 pet fish who eat turtle food but not fish food.

I love Rachael Ray and the Pioneer Woman.  I love their recipes.  I want to cook their recipes.  However, no one will eat them.  I think I need to write a cookbook called, “How to Survive Cooking for Your Family.”  It will be very short and will just have a recipe for fried rice and one for chicken and dumplings.  That will be the entire book, because those are the only two recipes my entire family will eat.   -Al



Sheryl Kershaw
12/08/2012 1:29pm

I think we should form a club and eat each others cooking and let the kids fend for themselves.

12/08/2012 2:01pm

It sounds like a plan to me, but I have to warn you....I'm pretty picky! :0)

04/09/2017 2:34am


04/10/2017 2:36pm

Yeah I am satisfied with the writer that you feel very bad when you are busy preparing dishes and the people keep taunting you on your cooking. She mesmerizes this situation into a battle between the eater and the cook. The cook starts loosing interest in cooking when she gets insulted day by day.


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