It's not that I hate cooking, it's more that I despise thinking about what to cook. If I were more organized, I'd plan out a menu, maybe even shop for actual ingredients so I have them on hand. And there are some weeks I'm determined to plan. I pull out a pen from my disorganized draw, rustle up some scratch paper, and sit down with some recipe books or Allrecipes.com. But then I realize I'm back to where I started and actually have to decide on something to make.
Will it really taste good? Will it be a major pain to make? Will my children hate it? (the answer to this is almost always yes) Will I take the time to write down the ingredients I need for the recipe and actually remember to buy them? (the answer to this is usually no).
At that point I toss the pen aside and hope inspiration will strike the next day by 4:00. Even 5:00. Why can't I be more like those amazing people out there who love to cook, love to try new recipes, or love to make up their own recipes? I suppose it's not in my genes. Maybe someday, if I watch enough cooking shows or read enough recipe books. Maybe. At least that's the hope.
The good news is that not all of the cooking genes passed me by. I do love to bake! Perhaps we should start having dessert for dinner.