After having zero luck searching for a pen in my pocketbook, to write down a recipe that was stuck in my head, I decided to look for one in the kitchen drawer. Well, the pens must be in the kitchen, right? After all that’s where I develop all my recipes. So, I hopped out of bed, went to the kitchen drawer to get a pen and my culinary ADHD and OCD kicked in immediately.
Upon my arrival in the kitchen, I noticed that my children had made their attempts to package the Christmas leftovers and clean up the kitchen as best as they could. While I do appreciate their efforts, I have yet to meet anyone who can organize MY SANCTUARY to meet my standards.
What my children accomplish in twenty minutes can take me two entire hours to complete. And no, I’m not moving slower than they are, I’m just very meticulous and kinda germophobic; and think I have to annihilate bacteria everywhere. Like, don’t open my refrigerator without washing your hands. Why? because you just bought germs from school. I’m probably the only person in the world who pulls the stove out so I can get to sweep and mop that area.
I used to get mad a my children when they didn’t do things my way but not anymore. I’ve learned to accept them just the way they are, and understand that not everyone will do things my way. I’ve learned that not everyone is as passionately domesticated as I am. When chores aren’t completed to my satisfaction, I simply perfect it or consider it a “touch up” until I’m able to really embark on it. Instead of getting angry and loosing my joy, I simple do it myself. To this day, I’m sill cleaning up after D’Angelo and he’s sixteen years old. This attitude brings me so much peace and joy. I’m not doing it for them. I do it for me and my sanity. Ain’t nobody gonna steal my joy.
While I have finessed patience, peace and joy in my life, I choose not to work on the OCD issues because it keeps me sane. I function so much better in a clean and organized space.
I began to rumble through the food packaging and I found one serving of oxtails and one serving of roasted beef with greens and immediately I thought “breakfast!” I place them in an oven proof container, cover it with foil, placed it into the oven and began to clean up the kitchen my way. I would get done as much as I could while I waited for my food. Oh, your asking why did I place it in the oven instead of the microwave? Because the microwave is bad for me; it doesn’t distribute the heat evenly; it makes your food taste like plastic, and I try to limit as much radiation as possible.
After clearing and cleaning my kitchen counter tops, I spotted a few ripe plantains just begging to be fried. So I made them really happy by frying them in some avocado oil. They were so good, I ate most of them before I even plated the dish. Finally I sauteed some onions, added some spinach, then pesto sauce and made a spinach pesto scrambled eggs. OMG it was simply divine!
Why bitch at your children when you’re a self sufficient, domesticated, culinary extraordiare filled with love, joy and peace, and knows how to remix a Christmas dinner into breakfast?