I realise this is giving away the fact that I am unbelievably overindulged, but I can’t remember the last time I cooked a proper meal. Sam cooks everything and often leaves me leftovers for lunch. I don’t even know the contents of our fridge half the time, as I rarely need to venture there.
This set up began back when I was pregnant and we’d not been living together long. Sam got into a huff in the supermarket because he had wanted to cook up a storm whereas I had suggested making something quick and easy. ‘Fine’, I thought, ‘If he likes cooking that much then who am I to stand in the way, go for it and I will reap the tasty results’. We all win. Cooking was also Sam’s way of doing something for me at a time when I was low on energy after exceedingly long days at work, often emotionally low, and low on good nutrients (I went off fresh veg big time).
Then, when Arlo arrived and I was pinned to the sofa under breastfeeding arrest, Sam made sure that we ate well in the evenings and that I had food already prepared for lunch whilst he was at work. Up until very recently, it was taking an hour or longer to get Arlo to sleep at bedtime, and he’d wake up every hour and need help getting back to sleep. I never knew when I would be clocking off from Arlo duty, so Sam’s cooking role continued. When Sam goes out, I eat toast, chips, or a ready meal. Why waste time cooking when I can sit in front of the TV and watch all my guilty pleasure programs that I can’t watch when Sam is around?
We lived with my family for five months when I was pregnant. They witnessed Sam cooking for me night after night, and so there’s now a running joke that Sam does everything for me. My grandma always asks me if I’ve learnt to cook yet. ‘I can cook, Grandma, I just don’t’, I remind her. She can’t get her head around the idea that it doesn’t have to be the woman’s responsibility.
I have fallen so far off the cooking wagon that I have completely no idea where to start. It’s Sam’s birthday tomorrow and I cannot let him cook his own birthday dinner. I’ve had a little reintroduction to cooking now that Arlo is eating. But pureed veg hardly constitutes a gourmet meal for two adults. I need to step up to the task and remember how to cook something decent. Something that might stand a chance of equalling some of the amazing meals Sam has cooked for me over the past year.
I am currently sitting here contemplating one of those M&S meal for two plus bottle of wine deals , it’s a bit posher than a ready meal, right?
