The Thinking Moms

Hate to Cook? Freudian Kitchen Slips

By admin, July 2, 2009 7:32 am

If a Can of Beans Falls on Your Foot and No One is Around to Hear You Scream…

hate to cook I don’t like to cook. I love to eat, but cooking, not so much. I used to love to bake – from scratch. That was before being diagnosed with Celiac Disease and switching to a gluten-free diet. Now, I try to limit my time in the kitchen as much as possible.

Did I mention that I was smart enough to marry someone who loves to cook!?!

My husband not only loves to cook, but the more complicated the dish, the happier he is. If he asks me what I want for dinner and I request chicken and some veggies, he says, “that’s too simple and boring.” He has taken on the challenge of my gluten-free diet with enthusiasm! He has made everything from homemade gluten-free pasta, to cream puffs and empanadas. I want for nothing. And during my pregnancy, he has become even more enthusiastic about feeding me and our little one.

So what’s the problem? Well, I work from home, he doesn’t, and there are times where I either need to, or simply want to, pitch in and provide nourishment for us. Lunch is also a time where I am left to my own devices (thank goodness for leftovers!). I can’t really run out to the deli and grab a sandwich, so there are times that I am forced into the kitchen. And I have friends (and our co-blogger, Elisa) who hate to cook, yet can’t pawn that job off on anyone else, so they actually have to face the dreaded kitchen on a daily basis.

But here’s the thing. When I get into the kitchen, a funny thing happens. I become 50 times more accident prone than I normally am.

Very few kitchen experiences go by for me where I don’t do one of the following:
• Burn myself or the food
• Hit myself in the head with an open cabinet door
• Cut myself
• Spill something important
• Accidentally throw away a vital ingredient
• Drop something on my foot

I studied psychology in college and I know these things can’t all be accidents. I call them Freudian Kitchen Slips. It took me years to discover what was actually happening here. My husband and I used to joke about how dangerous I am in the kitchen, and I finally realize why.

Although these mini-kitchen-tragedies are not on purpose, I now recognize that they are subconscious protests or cries for help. I don’t like to cook and my deeper mind must have decided to sabotage most of my cooking efforts to prove, in fact, that I simply don’t belong in the kitchen!

But now I have a baby on the way and realize that I must step-up (or mom-up) and learn to navigate my kitchen without injury or disaster. I’ve tried to break down what I really don’t like about cooking and I am exploring the possibilities that I just don’t like being alone in the kitchen, or maybe I am too much of a perfectionist and don’t enjoy doing things I am not great at, and possibly, I am protesting against my dietary restrictions.

But it is time to fix this! Maybe a cooking class and a few calls to mom will help (my husband does not like to share his creative kitchen space, and I like to keep the peace). But something does need to change – at least until my son is old enough to make dinner!

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