So it begins. Cooking for a need.
The days when I used to cook for fun, every once in a while, maybe once in two weeks, are now demanded every day. I used to go to the grocery store and purchase whatever appealed to my senses in the moment; but now I must shop with specific meals in mind. Which makes shopping efficient, yet time-consuming in planning. I am currently making a list for this coming week. There seems to be a lot of chicken.
It often surprises me that I must cook for this man, called my husband, every day. That I have two (currently, three) mouths to feed. That I have to care about what I feed; I must consider nutritional values, health hazards and benefits and all.
It also surprises me that I never cooked. Regularly.
My mom comforts me in sharing that she, too, didn’t know how to cook when she got married. She tells me that most girls learn to cook when they get married.
I hope so.