I hate to cook. I don’t mind doing it and know the importance of cooking my food; for me or my family, but honestly? I don’t like doing it. I don’t walk into the kitchen and go,’FUCK YEAH! LET’S MAKE SOME DINNER!’
bubbasparks is the cook in our house. Not just because I hate it, but because he has ALWAYS loved it. He loves to be in the kitchen; reading recipes, searching the internet for different versions of things, the whole shebang. Best of all he’s one of the most amazing home cooks I’ve ever met.
I can’t tell you how many people give me the side-eye when I say I hate cooking. Even supposedly evolved women will look at me like I told them I torture kittens when I say I hate cooking. My mother-in-law once questioned my contribution to my family since I don’t cook. Never mind that this woman loves watching cooking shows with men and loves Cake Boss, all dominated by doods. The whole thing was confounding. Then, the other night, as I was watching Big Love and Nicki was raging against Barb for taking dancing lessons, I realized something.
I think the insinuation, by my mother-in-law and by some other women I’ve encountered, that I am lazy harpy feminazi because I don’t cook is really about choices. They don’t have the option to NOT cook. They have to cook for their families because their spouses DON’T. There is never a day off, a day to say “˜fuck it’ and hang out on the internet, take a nap, play with their children, whatever.
I wish I could say that my aversion to cooking was an actual feminist plot to make the menz get off their asses and in the kitchen, but it isn’t. But what IS important? I am with a partner who recognizes I don’t like something and he picks up the slack. It’s the same reason I do the cleaning. He’s not as good at it and we think it is a fair trade.
I despise domesticity because I feel the roles of women have and are still bound by the vacuum and the sautÃ© pan. I don’t give two shits about matching sheets, dishes and drapes. I don’t care if there is some smudge on the couch, a few dust bunnies on the floor, or some scum in the bathtub. But that isn’t just it; I just don’t LIKE it. I’m sorry, but there is no DNA strand that determines a woman is supposed to like dusting and using the Magic Eraser to clean the sink.
Certainly, there is no need to live in filth and our entire family cleans and keeps things tidy. But it’s not a focus and will never be. And maybe that’s the key? Granted our cats, Mr. Pibb and Rihanna don’t do anything to help out, but the 3 of us all clean up our mess, sweep up the dirt, bake our cookies and make our beds and that is what makes it our home. Everyone participates and so it’s not ONE person’s responsibility.
Cooking is just one part of one’s domestic life. I don’t like it. So? I do plenty of other things that support my family, which frankly, is what it should be about. The chores you do or the perfect pork loin you roast don’t determine your worth.