Cha Cha Changes...

I grew up in an Italian household which meant dinner was on the table by the time my father got home. I rarely got to have peas (my favorite veggie) because my father did not like them-so my mom would not make them. I never understood this- I always said that I would never be that kind of wife, someone who made dinner for her man and made sure he was always happy-ha! My mom is also the type of person who wants everyone to be happy and does whatever she can to ensure that happens. I was always the person who told everyone what I thought and did not care how they felt about it.

Well that was then...I am 26 years old now and I become devastated if my mashed potatoes, that I made from scratch, are ruined because that means my boyfriend does not get his favorite side. I should clarify some things- yes my dad liked his dinner when he got home, but if that did not happen it was not a big deal. If I really wanted peas, my mom would make them and my dad would eat them. I grew up in a warm and loving house where my parents respected and loved one another-and thinking back I think a lot of that wore off on me. I now love to cook for my boyfriend, even though I do have my fair share of screw-ups, I may even be the next contestant on World's Worst Cook. And I do speak my mind more often than not-but I do care what people think. I guess my point is that I never would have thought that I would be living with my boyfriend in Chicago cooking him meatloaf and mashed potatoes, (although not last night because I ruined the potatoes.) In the words of my best friend...I am becoming quite the little housewife. Who would have known? 

PS-I cook peas whenever I can-but I am the only one who eats them because my boyfriend hates them (I make him his own side of green beans)