No Offense. Are You Just Terrible at Cooking?
Raising a 13-year-old and finding our pride. Plus, two in-person events.
Last night, I made dinner.
Popcorn-and-peanut-crusted chicken. Honey mustard sauce.
Easy. Good.
I called my kid to the table. They bounded in flush with video game success: they’d made a mech in Trailmakers. (Picture long magenta LEGO bricks mincing as if on platform stilettos.)
“There’s chicken and salad,” I said. “And a sauce.”
I spoke like a hopeful and wary suitor. Maybe this time? This sauce? If they don’t know I care?
My kid dipped a piece of chicken into the sauce and popped it into their mouth. They chewed.
“Huh. Not bad.” They chewed more. “Nope, forget that. Ew. No offense, Mom, this is terrible. I mean, no offense. Are you just terrible at cooking?”
“OFFENSE! I take OFFENSE!”
I roared. I snorted and stamped my feet. Red sweat drenched my brow as I charged into a Righteous Manifesto on Manners, a Horned Rant about Respect.
To be clear, my kid was rude and ungrateful. They are 13. It’s a journey.
But I was 49, and I was full of rage, in a hot flash, livid at shocking federal events, and so hungry my stomach was a claw. My fury would’ve destroyed any parental discipline or coaching about manners and respect.
I also hadn’t slept the night before, which turned my emotions up to 11 and slowed my sentences down to 2. In the gap between my cracking temper and the meanness nigh at my tongue, my kid swallowed their bite and stepped away from their chair.
“Mom.”
They looked at me, blue eyes serious behind neon pink glasses.
“I mean no offense. I don’t feel comfortable around you right now, so I’m going to eat my dinner in another room.”
They picked up their plate and walked four steps to the living room. They sank their lanky, all-elbows, beautiful body into the lumpy brown couch, plate on the coffee table, and quietly ate ten feet from my spouse and me for about five minutes. Then, when we all knew the temperature had cooled, they came back, hugged me hard around the shoulders, gobbled up the chicken, and told us about the awesome features of their new Trailmaker mech.
I was so proud.
Yes, OF COURSE, my kid needs to say “Thank you, O Blessed Mother, for feeding me again” every time I cook, or when anyone cooks for them. And we’ll spend some time on the escalating error of “no offense.”🙄
But look at how they handled the moment! How they took care of their needs! How they neither shamed nor blamed anyone! How they were a 13-year-old goofball figuring out how to live with ridiculously old parents! How we all moved along, by and by, with good humor and love!
I am so proud.
I tell you this story because the political fallout of the last two-and-a-half weeks has been catastrophic for some—the ecosystem of global public health shredded within a few hours—and potentially catastrophic for many, many others.
As my treasured and blazingly brilliant friend Emily says, it is our webs of connections that will see us through. Our communities, our friendships, our clubs, our congregations, our towns, our activist circles, our meal trains. The people, the places, the moments we are proud to know, proud to be part of, proud to struggle with. Proud to get mad at sometimes and finish off the salad with.
Who are you proud of?
What are you proud of?
Where are you proud of?
Share in the comments. You are very smart and loving and wise.
Where are you finding your pride?
2 Lovely In-Person Events
#1 — ALBUM ART
On February 20 in Keene, NH, my friend Georgia Cassimatis and I are hosting a brand new event: ALBUM ART!
At ALBUM ART, we’ll listen to a vinyl record from start to finish, as it was meant to be heard. Who does that anymore? Us! Our first album is Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions, the 1974 Grammy Album of the Year and the perfect musical-genius vibe to honor Black History Month.
While we listen, we’ll each work on our art. But you don’t have to be an artist to come. Want to knit? Write a letter? Make a lesson plan? Do math problems? Perfect.
We’ll listen, create, and experience music as a collective. All you have to do is bring your favorite creative medium (minus painting—gallery rules!) and enjoy the moment without any pressure to chat too much.
If you’re in or near Keene on February 20, come over to the 17ROX gallery and studios for ALBUM ART! It’s free. Email me if you have any questions.
#2 — Writing Workshop for Women Entrepreneurs
From March 19 to April 9 in Keene, NH, I’m running a weekly workshop series for every woman entrepreneur looking to find her writing voice, improve her writing skills, and grow her confidence as a writer and communicator.
Over five 1.5-hour sessions, we’ll use proven techniques to build your writing ability and self-belief. You’ll learn how to relax when you write and bring your most important messages into powerful words. You’ll come away with the power and stamina to write what you need for your business and your creativity.
Each session will include a welcome, a short meditation, a prompt, writing time, and time to read aloud for positive feedback and craft lessons. Prompts will focus on writing for business needs.
Now my kid and I are hanging out in their room, listening to Cabaret Voltaire. They’re reading the fourth book in the Eragon series. I’m writing to you. Soon we’ll both be asleep.
Until we wake, make all our dreams strong. Fill the comments with your pride.
Love,
Becky
Oh my god i feel like this is a thinly veiled fictionalization of my house a couple years back. Love.
Oh Becky, the rage is real. I don't have community close by, and yet know I need to find it. Thank you for this vulnerability.