Does this blog make my butt look big?

I cannot begin to tell you how delighted I was when Em took an interest in cooking.  I know for certain she got that from her father.  I read recipes the same way I read science fiction: I get to the end and I think, "well… THAT's not gonna happen."  Before she took an interest, our conversations about menu-planning went something like this:

ME: Em, do you want dinner?
EM: Sure! What are my choices?
ME: ‘Yes’ or ‘No’

I’m not very gifted in the kitchen.  If a recipe calls for ¼ tbsp of Thyme…..that’s 15 minutes, right?  The truth is, I only have a kitchen ‘cause it came with my house.  I’m glad it’s finally getting some use.  Before Em took an interest, I had a cartoon sign on my stove that read, “For display purposes only.”

Em frequently watches cooking shows and I noticed that they all have immaculate kitchens the whole time they’re cooking.  I know for a fact that’s not reality.  The Food Network should air a disclaimer before all its programs: “Warning: the following show features stunts performed by chefs who didn’t have to worry about washing dishes afterwards.”

Food is such a tricky vice.  She cooks very healthy but when she bakes, it’s all about the richness and decadence!   As far as I’m concerned, calories are simply used to assess the popularity of good food.  You know, if ‘Crunch Berries’ aren’t considered fresh fruit, then my diet is simply not going to work out.  Besides, I don’t want to spend my time weighing, rationing and measuring food – I want to enjoy it.

I hate dieting.  I’ve been overweight for a long time, so if people don’t love me for me and not for the size of my derriere, then I have no use for them.  I make jokes about it because I love food and it doesn’t bother me to be a little chubby.  OK, a lot chubby, but whatever.  I have to be the official “test kitchen” for Em!

Dieting is just mean.  If we’re not supposed to have late night snacks, then why is there a light in the fridge?   Once, when I tried to log on to Facebook, it said, “Cookies are required to operate.” *Short trip to the kitchen*  “Me too, Facebook. Me too.” 

Bottom line is, I’m really a perfect size ‘10’.  I just keep it covered with fat so it won’t get scratched.