Let's Get Real.

Real Honest. I don't like to cook. It's something I've recently come to terms with. I fell into the wifely trap where I felt as though I had to cook and I had to like it. But if I'm honest I have never been very good at it.

God blessed me with a husband who would eat gravel if I sat it in front of him and told him I'd cooked it and he wouldn't complain. He'd just add lots of salt.

There is nothing I cook (or if I'm being honest that anyone I know cooks) that I look forward to. Not like what I look forward to at a restaurant. Cooking is overrated. It's a lot of damn work and in my case it's never worth it.

The day I finally said it out loud to Drew was one day last week. I'd come home between school and work to put dinner in the crock-pot. A pinterest recipe: Hawaiian Crockpot Chicken. And from the moment I put it in, I dreaded the minute I would have to come home and eat it.

I admitted to Drew how I truly felt about cooking as I pushed the chicken around my plate and snuck most of it under the table to Ike.

I always felt good about cooking because I knew it was saving us money and I know that makes Drew happy. But I also know that Drew doesn't want me to eat cereal for dinner after he eats whatever mess I've prepared that day which had become the norm.

Another friend of mine who shares my view of cooking said someone told her recently:
 "You need to cook for your family." I call bull shit. I am a much more pleasant member of this family if I'm sitting across from Drew at a meal I didn't have to prepare, dread eating all day, try, be disappointed and then have to worry about the huge mess that's left.

Feel free to shake your head as you prepare a 5-course meal for your family tonight, go ahead and feel sorry for my future children and give Drew permission to seek a new wife. I'm no longer lying to myself. I don't like it and I suspect there are some of you out there who are right there with me.

This was sooo much better than Hawaiian crockpot chicken.