I think I’ve been banned from the kitchen, and preparing food, for the final time tonight. If so, I’m certainly not mourning this loss. I’ll celebrate it later tonight in fact. But for now, I must be content with my mother preparing my food after being turned off from my ‘style’ of cooking.
See, I was supposed to make some sort of salad for dinner tonight. I brought up my regular argument of “Why does food need so much attention if you’re just going to eat it?” I then said that we shouldn’t bother with a salad, or if we absolutely had to, we should do this …
I proceeded to pick up the head of lettuce and took a bite out of the side. I chewed away as my mother looked on, stunned. I smiled then grabbed a cucumber and took a bite out of the side as well. Chewing away my mother forcibly removed me from the kitchen talking about how I’m uncouth and uncivilised and am never to tread foot on the kitchen tiles again. I started to laugh when I leaned up against a wall, looking at a head of lettuce and a cucumber with chunks missing. It was quite the sight. I should have taken some photos, Samuel-esque style.
I still would be happy if my mother dumped the crisper shelf on the dinner table in preparation for tea every night. Then she, my father, my sister and I could just grab what we want and eat as much as we want. There’s things I don’t like in a salad that someone else might, so nothing will really go to waste. And the novelty value! It would get kids eating veggies if they had to fight for bits and eating were fun.
Of course, I fully support the cooking and preparation of livestock and meats. I couldn’t eat them raw. Though sushi I have been known to consume and enjoy, so perhaps, along with knives and forks, a fish scaler and a bucket for the guts could be supplied?
I could have stumbled upon a new idea for a restaurant. Or is that called a farm? Meh.
Note: No, the parts of the food that I ‘defiled’ were not served in the salad that was made by more ‘caring’ hands.