Chef Not

I know people that claim that they love to cook. I guess everyone is allowed their own weird kinks. Those people claim to make things like pasta from scratch. 

The conversation usually goes like this:

Weird Person: I Love to cook. 

Me: It is a necessary evil. 

Weird Person: Oh, I pride myself on cooking complicated dishes. I love it. I just hate to clean up. 

Me: I cook because DHR frowns upon not feeding your children. 

Weird Person looks confused. They look confused because  I am female and Southern. I am supposed to love to cook and make a house for my family or at least to pretend to. As a Southern lady, I am supposed to pride myself on making a home and making good biscuits. My biscuits come out of the freezer or a can when I actually cook them at all. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. I clean because I don’t like filth and am a bit OCD. I cook so they don’t starve. I also don’t give two shits what people think of my womanly home making skills. I have four college degrees, am successful in my field, and all my children and stepchildren are doing okay. They all know how to use the toaster and microwave. Biscuits do not define my worth.