Mr DIG asked me, amidst preparing dinner. . .
“Do you like cooking then?”
( Dear Reader – Do you like Mr DIG? He asks good questions don’t you think? Makes for diverse blog posts! )
I had to think about it.
“I think so.” I replied.
Though I really wasn’t sure anymore. I used to enjoy it but since the Little Fellas came along – plus Gran with all the challenges that the Taste Monster brings to the table – I really think the answer is more ‘Not so much.’
Then it got me thinking about why this was so. Why I continued.
To which the answer came, because I still want to know what is in our food and what my family is eating.
It takes time, there are dishes and pots and pans to wash and the appreciation from the gathering at the table is more often lacking and instead insulting and damaging to the soul of a home cook. But they are healthy, they do eat most of their meals despite being distracted and eating with their hands from time to time. And I care. And I’m stubborn. In a good way, I hope.
Gran is better off too. Though a recent chicken salad with home made mayonnaise and noodles was so uncomfortable to sit through. She looked disinterested and miserable. She is trying to kill off the Taste Monster and its destructive ways with her blood sugar. But the misery. Oh the misery.
I cook with care and with love, but it’s a hard task at the moment. The immediate rewards are few, but I’m in for the long term gains.