Life Lesson #3: The Best Meals Come With a Sacrifice
MC and I worked with another dad from the youth group this morning to cook up enough pancakes and bacon to feed the 100 or so teens who had spent the night at the church building for a lock-in. After several false starts, we finally started bustin' everything out and, wouldn't you know, I ended up burning my fingers. (We also set off the smoke alarm, but that's a story for another day.)
Here's the thing about me...no matter how hard I try, I almost always get some type of burn, even a small one, when I cook. Granted, I'm not really making a concerted effort most of the time to NOT get burned, but I'm sure I get burned more per amount of meals cooked than the average person.
When deep frying anything, it's a sure bet that I will at least have oil splatter marks dotting up and down my arm, if not a blister or two from hot oil. The same can be said for cooking bacon. I have a 2 inch scar on my arm from where I scraped it along the inside of the oven when baking potatoes. At one point, I had a crescent shaped burn on the inside of my wrist from where I touched it against the rim of my skillet. My kids are so used to hearing me say "Ouch" when I'm cooking that I think they would really be shocked to find out pain is not actually part of the cooking process.
While cooking may, in fact, be hazardous to my health, I believe it brings nothing but goodness to my family, and it's worth whatever price my body has to pay. After I cook dinner, we gather around the table to eat together and enjoy food that wasn't served in a bag and didn't come with "microwave only" cooking directions. MC and the minions end up with full bellies and smiling faces and it makes this mama's heart happy.
I may not be the best cook, I may not provide as many home cooked meals as I should, and I may not offer gourmet meals, or a worldly array of cuisine, but I can say that I always put a bit of myself into preparing food for my family.
I just wish it didn't have to be so literal.