"What are you doing?" asked Stew, with a cautious look in his eye.
"Baking a Cake." I replied.
Stew cocked his head, "You're whaaaat?"
"Baking... A cake." I answered.
Stew continued to look at me like my wooden spoon was a third tit, which had grown out of the center of my forehead.
"I love cake, I didn't know I was getting cake. But, what's gotten into you?" he asked.
And, that is something I didn't and don't have an answer for.
I have recently started reading a blog called weelicous, about cooking for kids. And, after a week or so of reading about cooking, I started thinking about cooking. Then this past week I started actually cooking. From scratch.
I'm not domestic. I am not a cook, and yet I look forward all day to cooking dinner. Tomorrow I am making roast beef tacos in the slow cooker with a recipe I have made up myself and I already have all my ingredients chopped and ready.
I don't really know why I feel this sudden urge, but as long as I am enjoying it. I will go with it.
And, Stew? He'll fight me to wash dishes and then settle down on the couch to enjoy his cake.