Years later I was talking to my Mother about that visit. When I mentioned the kitchen she explained that as a boy my Grandfather had a little sister whom he adored. On day she was in the kitchen while his mother was cooking and the little girl (about 3 or 4) reached up and grabbed a pot handle, pulling a pot of boiling water down and over her head. She was scalded to death. Now, this wasn’t a secret, it just wasn’t talked about. I can only surmise that the “No kids in the kitchen”, rule was really my Grandfather trying to protect from that ever happening to any other child.
Thanksgiving last year. My son is always in a hockey tournament so it’s very difficult for us to commit to a family dinner. Last year my son was on the ice during the time my in laws eat, they eat at 2pm. By the time we got there, it was after 4pm. We were served cold turkey, we weren’t allowed to reheat it. That’s it. Nothing else. They decided to invite themselves over the next day for a proper dinner. They brought over the rest of the turkey, a sandwich bag of vegetables and a box of stuffing. To feed 7 people. That should have been more than enough, according to my mother in law. I boiled a pot of potatoes, added a lot more vegetables, and made gravy. MIL made a salad with what lettuce I happened to have in the fridge, which I was saving for a lasagna dinner the next day for me, my husband and my kids.
Anyway, FIL raved about the mashed potatoes, he never gets mashed potatoes at home, and couldn’t get enough of the gravy. He doesn’t get any of that at home either. My husband made a minor complaint about the salad, not having enough garlic in it, to which I had to mention that I didn’t make the salad. That upset MIL. Unintentionally. FIL mentioned that he couldn’t remember the last time there was so much food on the table and what were we going to do with the leftovers. So I told him. Soup. The bones and veggies will become a soup, my son will finish off the gravy and mashed potatoes, his favourite.
I also hosted Christmas last year. Twenty eight people all together in my little house. I made sure there was more than enough food for everyone. When I cook, whether it’s just for the four of us or a family gathering, nobody goes home hungry. When MIL cooks, you always go home hungry. So, I’ve learned to eat a little something before we go over, or just eat a little something when we get home. Or, I’ve been advised through comments on a previous answer, to bring a dish of my own.
Yes, I was with this girl and I just wasn’t that into her anymore I had really liked her in the beginning but I just felt as though we had lost connection so when she told me that she had felt the same way and that she thought we should break up I was very relieved. We planned a party that spanned all three of our grades, the banger of ages. Booze, weed, games, live music, the whole nine yards, and we worked as a team for a meticulous perfection. We took pictures of the fridge and counters, all over to make sure we had things set as perfectly as she left. We carefully tucked away all valuables and locked the door, picked up ahead of time for optimal party experience, and put out snack tables, and a pizza fund jar for friends to chip.
So, people, keep your pot handles turned away from the front of the stove. Always be aware of kids in the kitchen. After learning of our family tragedy, I have been extra cautious when cooking with a child in the house. Friday, March 13, was a half day of school where I work, so the students were already pretty squirrely. About 90 minutes before dismissal, teachers got a text from the boss: “The school district was closing all schools for two weeks. Don’t tell the students yet.”