My cooking.....

I spend a fair amount of time scrolling endlessly through Pintrest looking for just the right crockpot meal to serve my little family of three.  I am actually pretty obsessed with my crockpots (yes, that is plural- I have 3 crockpots- one for each family member. Cute, huh?).  I feel like when I die, my body should be cremated and put into my small little red crockpot, which is clearly my favorite one. 

Although, I think my crockpot creations are simply beautiful, my teeny tiny tot doesn’t agree with me. 

 

I usually start some sort of crockpot creation (creation may not be the right word- I am probably confusing “creation” with “experiment”) in the morning before I leave for work.  It cooks all day and fills the house with a wonderful aroma.  Well, I think it’s a wonderful aroma; Chase on the other hand does not.  He usually enters the house at 3:30pm after a long day of playing and napping and usually asks, “Hey, Mom.  What’s that bad smell?” But don’t worry. This doesn’t hurt my feelings.  My crockpot and I have become pretty immune to the negativity around our masterpieces at this point.     

Well, the other night I made chili in the crockpot.  I put Chase’s bowl on his placemat on the kitchen table.  Chase climbed up into his spot, took one look at the bowl of chili and said, “Oh, no thank-you. It looks digesting… and wet.”  He proceeded to climb down from his chair and scamper off into his room to play.  Well at least he is trying to be polite about my awful cooking, right?    

I ate chili alone that night. 

Chase must have been feeling bad about not eating my chili because the next night when I decided to make a cake he was actually quite proud of me.  As I pulled the cake out of the oven, I notice Chase out of the corner of my eye standing by our kitchen table, almost out of sight- as if he is supervising me from a distance- just far enough away to make a quick getaway in case my cake explodes.  As I set the cake on the kitchen counter I hear Chase shriek in delight, “Yay! Mommy, you did it- great job!”

Apparently, he didn’t think I could actually pull off baking an entire cake.  

My little Sully the monster.