Cooking Doomed

Before we went away to England I had become utterly bored with my own cooking and had run out of ideas.

Back from England after 10 days off from cooking I was charged up with zeal and new nourishing recipes. I made date and apricot flapjacks with golden maize flour, sesame and powdered almonds, cauliflower and carrot terrine, and pasta with red onions and peas. Only J-C would taste the terrine and No Comment was passed. I burned the pasta by being convinced I had turned off the cooker while I dashed up 2 flights of stairs to begin hanging up Washing Backlog the Sequel. Upon eating the flapjacks, family members responded as follows:

R 'MMMMMM I love them Mummy - but they are a bit filling...'
B 'They are too sweet'
J-C 'Aren't they a bit dry?'

Me: DRY? They are the epitome of succulence!

J-C 'Actually, I don't like flapjacks'

Me: Well how was I supposed to know that? I made them specially. You've always said you liked them!'

J-C 'not really...'

Me: 'By my calculation that means you have been Pretending to Like Flapjacks for 15 years! It doesn't matter what I cook, somebody always doesn't like and mostly everyone doesn't. The only things you like are out of packets. I don't know why I bother!'.

The crisis might have been averted if R, after a series of exaggerated flops and sighs, hadn't asked:

'Do I have to eat these wormy things?' (red onions).

At this point I Resigned from cooking in a Huff.

'Don't worry, I'll cook' said B, bright eyed 'Is there a pizza in the freezer?'

'No. You're doomed to the only meal your father can cook...Potato Omelette' (groans all round, including J-C who is bored with is own omelette, even though he has only cooked it 4 times in 15 years).

'Come to think of it' I added after a short reflection, 'We've also run out of eggs, so you are not doomed to eat potato omelette, you are just DOOMED'.

Exit stage left.