This has just been the 3rd day since my mom's been out and I already have 3 burns on my skin.
The day my mom told me that she would be off to a 15 day yoga camp, I was ecstatic, obviously after feeling sad that I wouldn't be seeing her for the next 15 days. I was ecstatic for the very fact that I would be the king ( err….. more like the queen, but who cares!) of my world …….. my home and most importantly the kitchen. I was very enthusiastic on the verity that I could do anything I wish, experiment new dishes and my poor dad would have to bear the brunt of my cooking!
I must tell u here that I'm an absolute spoilt brat at home. I would never dare to step anywhere remotely close to the kitchen when my mum's around. My mom's tried innumerable excuses on trying to get me interested in 'horror' termed as cooking and I've happily stayed away from it. In spite of comparison with friends, cousins and others of the same age or much below my age, it has not affected my happy-go-lucky character on skipping from entering the kitchen every time I pass through it. And just for that, she was paranoid of leaving my dad in my clutches, lest he be left starved!
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So this time when she made the announcement, I decided that come what may I will enter the lion's den and deal with the monster termed 'cooking'. So I thought I'll begin with the basics:
Day 1 – I tried boiling water and I got burnt
Day 2 – I tried boiling milk and I got yet another burn.
But still my interest towards mastering cooking didn't die. I wanted to conquer the monster!
Day 3 – I tried heating oil and I got another burn
Ohh what the hell! Gimme me the directory, what's the number of Pizza hut???
Whoever said cooking is a woman's art?!!
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