Sunshine used to be a great cook. I used to send my food requests to her in advance of my visits. It was that good. Lately, we have struggled to get Sunshine to help out around the house with cooking. It’s not as delicious as it once was, but when someone else is doing the cooking, I try not to complain. We ask Sunshine to make dinner once or twice a week. That’s all we can handle since Sunshine exclusively uses the “deep fried” cooking method. We’re trying to only slowly clog our arteries, so we don’t need her deep fried deliciousness any more frequently than that. Still, she doesn’t seem to want to cook any more; not even when she initially agreed to do it. Here’s what happened yesterday:
Around 11 a.m.:
Me: Mom can you make dinner tonight?
Then, around 5 p.m.:
Sunshine: I think I would like to decline to make dinner tonight.
Me: WHAT??!!! What on earth does that mean?! And you’re only telling me now?!! How is that helpful?
(Dinner is usually around 6 or 6:30, so now I’m faced with scrambling to figure out Plan B for my two Impossible Miracles who are already starting to show signs of hangry-ness.)
Sunshine: I decline.
And then she hung up the phone. Oh, did I mention that she called from the family room to my bedroom where I was folding laundry? Getting Sunshine to help around the house by making dinner frees me to go do one of the 10,000 other chores that need doing around the house. But Sunshine called to decline. Refusing to cook some of her own favorite foods was odd. Making a phone call to a room not 50 steps away was odd. Her language was odd. I have no idea who talks like that. Wait. My mother, Sweet Sunshine, talks like that. To her daughter. She declines.