Brownies

 

 

 

I remember so much from my life having to do with food. When I was young I would get upset because my older brother would always get to do more than me. I didn’t see why when I was younger but I do now. Pluses not being able to see over the stove helped my mom make her decision. If I cued do anything I would want to go bake to myself and say “it’s going to be ok, that I’ll have my many days in the kitchen. Even days were all I would want to do is sit down or put my feet up.”

Once I got to the age of seeing over the stove and knowing not to touch it when it’s on, my mother finely let me cook. One of the first things she tote me to make was boxed brownies. They would always come out the same, hard and dry like any other brownie. But I thought they were the best thing in the world.

As I grew my mother would let me cook even more. It got to the point to where if she didn’t want to cook she would tell me I cued. Being so young I thought this meant that she wanted me to grow in the field of cooking when it really meant that she would want to sit down with her feet up.

Sadly in a blink of an eye she had to sit down with her feet up all of the time. I started to cook all of the time and was learning to love it, even though my feet where telling me otherwise. I started to make brownies all of the time for my family. They got much better to the point of my brother even bragging to his friends about them. Saying I knew gust how to make them so that even after sitting out all night they would still be gooey in the morning. I like to joke around and say that’s how I got my second brother. I know he really isn’t my brother, but he was always over at the house on the weekends and always wanted to have brownies.

After my mother passed I became very depressed. I wouldn’t want to do a thing. That is until I would hear my dad in the kitchen cooking. I cued hear the sizzling sound of butter in a hot pan, about to become fajitas all the way down the hall where I hide in my room. The feeling of taking nothing and making something. I missed it. I knew I couldn’t live without it. Now I cook at least once a day. But my favorites are the midnight calls. Where my two brothers will come home with a box of brownie mix telling me I had no choice but to make them baronies. On the outside I was always wining saying I didn’t want to, but on the inside I loved the fact that I was able to make something that my brothers loved.