Have spent school hols waging war with boy/man/child over contents of pantry, or in his opinion lack of.
He simply refuses to acknowledge that ingredients are actual food, so complains constantly that I am starving him.
Apparently every other house is bursting at seams with snack foods, and all contain Fridges and freezers yeilding treasure trove of goodness to which young uns apparently are granted unlimited access.
Is constant source of shame to him that he is famished, and as he is son of foodwriter, I should be suitably shamed for not providing adequately. Will me all my fault if he gets malnutrition ...
Who are these people he knows with bulging cupboards? and what are they filled with??? And how do they afford it when milk is more expensive than petrol and a basic loaf of bread is $3.00. Don't they know how hard they are making it for the rest of us!
Have to admit that last week I was starting to waiver, begining to think maybe I should ingulge him, as is goodish lad, and makes me laugh (sings "you're beatiful to me" while I'm in dressing gown with scary morning hair, and says things like "my beef is not with you old woman" when he is cross about something).
Fortunatley had not yet caved in, as came home the other afternoon to find he'd cooked a platter of potato wedges for himself and friend ! Gaah! you'd have thought they'd discovered cure for Cancer! so pleased with themselves, posturing around the kitchen talking bollocks about seasonings and such. Was like they'd unleashed their inner Gordon Ramsay with a pinch of oregano and some cayenne pepper.
But was not the end of it, awoke next morning to smell of burnt butter.
Man child had made pancakes. From scratch. Flour, baking powder, eggs, milk, sugar, whisk...and all over again with the smugness, never mind its my recipe. Apparently better pancakes were never enjoyed by the male species, than those produced that morning!
Also noticed the toasted sandwich maker made an appearence and as there have been no further complaints about lack of food, is safe to assume they worked out how to plug it in and turn it on.
It would be easier no doubt to buy noodles and pies and frozen pizza's and such, but believe wholeheartedly that he'll be better off in the long run knowing how to roast a pan of wedges or knock together a batch of pancakes, and while he may never thank me for making him cook, one day I may have a daughter in law who will!