I suffer from kitchenphobia, where I tremble at the thought of knives, fire, boiling water or hot oil spraying my face, and condemning me to a life of blindness. I have some stories that may explain this fear of mine.
When I was a little girl, my mom tried to teach me how to cook, but I ended up cutting my fingers almost every time. My mom said she preferred not to have a crippled daughter, and banned me from the kitchen for the rest of my childhood and teenage years. To avoid my starvation, she taught me some basic recipes just last year, when she realized microwave food and ramen soups had become a part of my daily nutrition. Strangely, there were no mishaps when we baked together, so I can make some killer desserts. My children will be diabetic.
For Mother's Day like 10 years ago, my brother Carlos took over dinner, as he usually does (my brothers were not clumsy in the kitchen at all, so they did learn how to cook). I offered Carlos my limited help. He asked me to take the recently cooked potatoes out of the stove, and drain the water, so we could start peeling them. Physics has never been that easy a subject for me, so I forgot to recall that the potatoes could splash boiling water if I just turned the pot upside down. The following 2 weeks I spent wearing tube shirts, and rubbing aloe all over my upper chest. To my future husband, please don´t worry, as the doctor did a wonderful job, and no scars were left on this essential part of my anatomy.
About 2 and a half months ago, I moved to a new appartment. One morning, I decided to have eggs for breakfast. I had no idea about the scare I was going to get. Whenever I've been around a stove, it has always been an electric device; so, no gas and, particularly, no flame had ever been present. Not the case here. I turned the knob and set it on high, but failed to sense the heat; then I smelled the gas. Fearing an explosion might prematurely end my life, I screamed, turned the knob off, and ran upstairs to my bedroom, where I locked myself up for the next 30 minutes. Again, my lack of knowledge of physics made me forget that air travels around, and moves through hinges in locked doors.
My friend Laura had to cook dinner for a medium-sized group this last Thanksgiving. As usual, I feel uncomfortable when people are working around me, and I'm not. Plus, it seemed like a never-ending task for one person alone, so I took a deep breath, and walked to the kitchen with shaky footsteps. In a trembling voice, I asked: "Do you need any help?", praying with all I got that she would have me rub the floor, do the dishes, or anything else that would keep me away from the stove and all the knives in that dreaded place.
She must have felt my horror, as she sent me away, while saying: "I´m doing ok now, but I´ll let you know if I need your help later". Oh, blessed soul that she is! However, all my fears came back about 15 minutes later when she asked me to make Jell-O, but went away again when I realized all I had to do was to boil water. I later had to prepare stuffing and gravy, all from a box, naturally. All of these chores demanded the boiling of water, so I survived. Merciful Laura, que Dios te lo pague!
I have a million more stories of my ineptitude in the kitchen, but again, I don't want to scare away my future husband. Honey, whoever you are, we'll be okay ;)
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