Guest blog contributed by Mrs. Mommy Mack
This year, my husband and I decided we weren’t buying each other Christmas gifts. We were just going to cut to the chase and buy our own gifts. This circumvents the lackluster present giving we are known for. I still have a snake-skin planner in the back of my closet from 2012 that has yet to be opened. We just would rather do our own thing.
The problem? The minute my husband gives me the green light to spend money, it is spent. Let’s be real, most of the time, it’s spent before he gives the all clear. So, that night I was headed to a craft fair. I had a fire in my pocket and was ready to make it rain.
I got to the event and immediately locked eyes with the most beautiful hand-crafted apron. It was floral, vibrant and fit my curves in a way that said pin-up and not Aunt Jemima. I was sold. It was my biggest purchase of the evening.
Something you should know about me: I remember being in my early 20’s and my roommate wanted to whip up a batch of brownies. Since I was single, in my early 20’s and a woman, the last box of brownie mix was gobbled up almost before it was put in the cupboard.
“We are out of brownie mix,” I lamented. “And I am not in the mood to put a bra on and go to the store.”
“Well, we can still make brownies without a box of mix,” my roommate quipped. “We have the ingredients.”
“Wait, you can make brownies without Betty Crocker?” I asked.
This about sums up my cooking mom skills to date. Nothing new has really transpired in the last 10 years. Baking for me consists of a panic-attacked opening of a can of Pillsbury biscuits. Dinners are almost exclusively created by dumping random things in the Crock Pot and crossing my fingers. That is, if it’s not à la Kraft macaroni and cheese.
So imagine my husbands utter shock when I decided to purchase a $38 apron this week. He gave me the eyes that said, Oh, I knew you were going to blow that money. You will NEVER wear this apron. This will be thrown on top of the poker set you bought me that is still in the box under the stairs.
Yes, the purchase came on a whim and cost more than 25% of my current thrift store wardrobe, but it was gorgeous and symbolic of my newfound self. I quit drinking, lost 94 pounds, had twins, moved to Michigan, got a pixie haircut, started making my bed like a grown-up, why the hell couldn’t I be a cooking mom, too? And I will be damned if my husband is going to be right with that smug little face of his.
So, the very next day, after the hubby got over his initial apron shell shock, I strung that gorgeous beauty around my neck and stood in my kitchen ready to carpe the diem. I looked like Lucille Ball and took several dozen selfies and then…
I stood there.
Opened the cupboards.
Grabbed my phone.
Searched, “easy things to cook.”
Hung my apron back up.
Grabbed chicken nuggets.
Well, at least I wore the damn thing. Maybe this was just the first cooking mom baby step I needed before becoming the next Pioneer Woman.
You never know.
About Mrs. Mommy Mack:
Where did she come from? Where did she go? Mrs. Mommy Mack is an impulsive writer for the past decade or so. She started out professionally and couldn’t handle the ghastly amount of money she was paid, so now she does it for free! As a self-proclaimed Expert of Nothing, Mrs. Mommy Mack uses her blog as cathartic word vomit she hopes will make you smile. There’s really no theme. She just so happens to be a mom who’s been on a diet since puberty and curses much too much.
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