True Story

All kidding aside, it can get discouraging cooking for people who would really prefer fast food or something from a box. Yesterday, I was in a bit of a blue funk, wondering why I go to the bother of even trying to cook things that will no doubt not be accepted by either hubby or "baby" boy. Perhaps the less than perfectly risen chocolate buns on top of the failed brownie ice-cream cake had something to do with all my dark thoughts?

Just as I was really getting going on my pity party, in walked Martin to eat one of the chocolate swirl buns for a snack. This was huge! Things I make that he's not crazy about he might try once, but he'll certainly never come back for another helping. Just minutes before I'd looked at the buns and seriously considered throwing them away, feeling like I'd be the one who would have to eat every last one of them and not wanting that amount of chocolate and calories in my body. I'm sure the dramatic effect of throwing away perfectly good pastries also seemed like a good idea - sort of a passive-agressive stab at making the world (read: those two people in my world right now) feel bad that they done me wrong by not loving everything I dish out for them to eat.

It gets better. About 20 minutes later, Brian came in to the kitchen, grabbed one of the buns and said, "these are really good, Mom". Folks, you can't get a much higher endorsement than your barely out of his teens son actually complimenting something you prepared!

In the span of just a few minutes I went from being down on myself and my cooking to feeling on top of the world. And ready to torture hubby and son with even more home-made stuff!