So...more about my life with a 10 year old's tastebuds.
God knows I love the Rottenator. But God also knows that I love cooking. Hence the dilemma.
I adore cooking. I spend hours planning meals, grocery lists, scouring the internet and Pinterest for the best recipes that I lovingly prepare with my own little hands in Bella Cucina for our little family of two (soon to be three, but more on that later).
So imagine my dismay when I proudly present my latest masterpiece and it is met with a tepid response. Or, even worse, a visible shudder.
My delicate little heart is broken. Especially because the meals I research are not for me, oh, no, they are intended to delight a certain individual who, despite outward appearances, is a picky eater.
Oh, yes. The Rottenator does not have what I would call a refined palate, but he has a definite list of likes and dislikes.
Likes: chicken, cheese, bbq sauce, bread, with an occasional ground beef or pork chop thrown into the mix, and all-you-can-eat generic buffets.
Dislikes:everything that makes life worth living sour cream, cream cheese, Ranch dressing, mayo, soy sauce, anything healthy.
Therefore, my options are limited, and my creativity is stifled. And I feel frustrated and stabby instead of appreciated and cherished.
Fine. I'm making a decision and taking a stand. If I do continue to feel like cooking after my full-time employment begins, I will implement the following plan: K.I.S.S. Keep It Simple (for) Stupid.
Yes, I am a little bitter. That tends to happen when you steal someone's joy.
How I'm feeling today (yes, three videos, one for every letter in PMS):
God knows I love the Rottenator. But God also knows that I love cooking. Hence the dilemma.
I adore cooking. I spend hours planning meals, grocery lists, scouring the internet and Pinterest for the best recipes that I lovingly prepare with my own little hands in Bella Cucina for our little family of two (soon to be three, but more on that later).
So imagine my dismay when I proudly present my latest masterpiece and it is met with a tepid response. Or, even worse, a visible shudder.
My delicate little heart is broken. Especially because the meals I research are not for me, oh, no, they are intended to delight a certain individual who, despite outward appearances, is a picky eater.
Oh, yes. The Rottenator does not have what I would call a refined palate, but he has a definite list of likes and dislikes.
Likes: chicken, cheese, bbq sauce, bread, with an occasional ground beef or pork chop thrown into the mix, and all-you-can-eat generic buffets.
Dislikes:
Therefore, my options are limited, and my creativity is stifled. And I feel frustrated and stabby instead of appreciated and cherished.
Fine. I'm making a decision and taking a stand. If I do continue to feel like cooking after my full-time employment begins, I will implement the following plan: K.I.S.S. Keep It Simple (for) Stupid.
Yes, I am a little bitter. That tends to happen when you steal someone's joy.
How I'm feeling today (yes, three videos, one for every letter in PMS):
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