We have bigger fish to fry; like loving each other

 

My mom told me I was being disrespectful to her not too long ago. Actually, she's been throwing around that term a bit lately.

The last thing you want to be in the UNIVERSE is disrespectful to the person that squeezed your big ass head out of their body, so I had to really sit down and think about this. 

Get to the root.

What I unearthed is that I didn't start being even remotely disrespectful to my mom 'til she insisted we (my sibs and I) be honest about her cooking

ALL.

THE.

TIME. 

Like, even for the simplest of dishes.

Now, my mom has been a good cook for most of my life, and she still is, so being honest about her cooking has usually been and usually is like watering a field of roses and daisies. 

Let me give you an example of this struggle for context;

So we've all just got done eating dinner.

Grilled tilapia, rice-a-roni, string beans and corn. 

A super simple, affordable, harmless family meal.

Mom: "Bre, how was the tilapia?"

***Now, it was definitely over seasoned, but I'm 13 and I don't even really care.

Me: "Umm, it was good, tastes like fish, ya know?" (I say "ya know" A LOT, FYI)

Mom: "You sure, what was it missing?"

Me: "I mean, nothing really, I added some butter to it, but it was fine"

Mom: "Really? I don't know."

Me: "It's tilapia, it pretty much always tastes the same."

Mom: "Yea I guess you're right. You don't think I put too much salt on it?"

*****PAUSE******

She hit it right on the head. Now, what 13 y/o Breanna would have typically said is,

Me: "Yea, there was just a tad too much, but it was still good."

9 y/o Baylee: "Yea I ain't wanna say nothing, but it was a little salty." 

End scene.

Now you can only imagine that over the years these conversations are getting a little more brutally honest. Especially when your mother is prying for feedback, good or bad!

It also doesn't help that I was the kind of kid that rushed home to see the new episode of Unwrapped, The Iron Chef, and that new show at the time Diners, Drive ins, and Dives, but that's neither here nor there. 

The fact of the matter is, the truth hurts sometimes and you're not supposed to hurt your mom sooo....

Now I'm just gonna put the honesty about how din din tastes on a bell curve, ya know. I gotta remember we're not equals, because she's my mom and that obviously and automatically makes her a trillion times more rawer than me and everybody else. And in not being equals, I can't give my honest opinion of how the greens taste this year and expect us to see eye to eye because this is our dynamic (see picture).   

Except The Creator God of Light, Horakhyt is Black and is my Mother and I'm more attractive than Bazoo. 

Except The Creator God of Light, Horakhyt is Black and is my Mother and I'm more attractive than Bazoo. 

Now, maybe I'm a little late on understanding this. (Damn, I'm hella 22. See, that example conversation happened 10 years ago 😥) I have to always remind myself that I'm a little slower to getting things. I know, I'm pretty rad so that is hard for y'all to believe, but yes BREANNA CHAMPION CAN BE KINDA SLOW.... Like molasses. Like turtles. That's probably why I like turtles. And that's probably why I quit swimming. Because I'm slow. 

Any hoo.

The moral of the story is, I've developed this rudeness that I'm convincing myself stemmed from being honest about my mom's cooking. 

The other moral of the story is, my mama is the rawest person you'll ever meet because she not only made sure I had something to eat, but cared enough to ask if it tasted good!!

Also don't EVER be honest about your mom's cooking. Your mom's cooking is always the best thing you have ever tasted.

The end.

 

Stay blessed and stay eating.

 

 

Bre