Terrible Mother

Cooking for a Man

Terrible Mother:  So, I need your advice on what to cook for The Sweet Boy for dinner. 

Friend One:  What are you considering?

Terrible Mother:  Scallops.

Friend One: Scallops? 

Terrible Mother:  Yes, scallops.  You know.  They are small and tasty shell fish that you can buy in mass quantities at the local fish store.  Or fishmonger.  Jamie Oliver calls it "fishmonger."

Friend One:  Did Jamie Oliver tell you to cook your boyfriend scallops?

Terrible Mother:  Well, he implied it would work.

Friend One:  Because Jamie Oliver is a chef, Terrible Mother. 

Terrible Mother:  Wait, are you saying I shouldn't cook The Sweet Boy scallops?

Friend One:  Well, how committed are you to the scallops?

Terrible Mother:  Not very.

Friend One:  I think it's a bad choice.

Terrible Mother:  Bad choice as in "white wine with pesto" or bad choice as in "goat cheese and Saltines"? 

Friend One:  No no.  Bad choice as in "drinking three Jack and Cokes and having sex without a condom."  Not that I know.

Terrible Mother:  What?  How can scallops be that bad of a choice?

Friend One:  Listen TM.  Scallops are finicky.  The finickiest of the shellfish.  They absorb anything you put in the pan with them, and even things in the same room.  They are raw at 1 minute and tough as hell at 2 minutes.

Terrible Mother:  But I'm a good cook!  I can roast root vegetables!  I make a mean mac and cheese!  I know how to be a good bougie girl!

Friend One:  Yes, but scallops?  For a boy, TM?  Look, you do what you want, but this is potentially what could happen:  You cook the scallops.  They are tough and chewy.  He looks across the table at you, the table you've set with the china and the candlesticks and he will think "this girl can't cook at all!  What am I doing here?" 

Terrible Mother:  That is so sexist!  He won't think that!

Friend One:  Well, if you undercook them he won't.  Then he'll be puking up his guts and cursing the day he met you. 

Terrible Mother:  I can cook really well!

Friend One:  Of course you can.  I'm just asking you to think clearly here.  Think about where this relationship is right now.  Is it ready for scallops, TM? Because, frankly, I don't think it is.

Terrible Mother:  Maybe you're right.

Friend One:  Of course I'm right.  I'm never cooking scallops for any man until we've done the 'til death do us part. 

Terrible Mother:  Then what will I cook?

Friend One (pause):  How about an easy pork tenderloin?

*terriblemother

Country Fried Sanity (A Conversation with Friend One)

"I was listening to this song today while I was driving and something horrible happened."

"What?"

"I realized I was listening to country music.  And I really liked it."

"What is wrong with that?"

"What is wrong with that?  Have you been paying attention?  I live in Oregon, Friend One!  And not just anywhere in Oregon, but Hippyland-ATHEISTVILLE Oregon! "

"I like country."

"Yes, but it's different.  You affect liking country.  You put on a pair of snappy heeled cowgirl boots and a denim skirt, and you look good.  You look like city trying to be country, but in a charming way.  Me?  I'm, like, two steps from being trailer trash!  I have to stick with my se7en jeans or I am totally screwed!"

"Are you turning all class consious on me?"

"Look, all I'm saying is that you either have to be sufficiently rural or sufficiently urban to pull off the country look. I'm neither.  I have no street cred.  And I have no cow cred." 

"You have that Republican, Christian boyfriend who is going to be a chaplain for the VA now."

"So?"

"Well that, darlin', gives you tons of cred.  Cow.  And street, even."

"It does?"

"What song were you listening to again?"

(sigh) "That Chesney song about the tractor being sexy."

"You, girl, are gonna be just fine."

*terriblemother