|I dream of having a fireplace like this.|
Years have passed and honestly, I am bold enough to say that I'm a Domestic Goddess now. I'd even go as far to say as that it's taken such a hold that it's instinctual. Seriously. Within the first thirty minutes of being awake today I had put away the clean & dry dishes, washed up my breakfast stuff, folded some dry washing, put a dirty load of washing in the machine, tidied the living room and organised my bag for school. I feel like I've missed something. Oh, and I whipped up a batch of chocolate chip muffins. You know, as you do. Actually, the last point is completely made up*. I only said I was domesticated, not Superwoman.
I enjoy my wifely duties of running my home. Maybe somebody reading this will be horrified at my old school stereotype of women, but whatever. I like making sure that my home is a place where Mr.K (and me) can feel comfortable. And I like cooking him meals that he enjoys. I pretty much run the house, and I like it that way. But don't get me wrong, Momma K taught her boy well. He knows when to turn of the playstation and to step in after I've done more than my fair share. Either because he's being sweet and attentive or because I'm about to go into some kind of meltdown.
Nigella Lawson is one of my heroes. Minus the bizarre and sometimes, frankly, inappropriate noises she makes whilst she's cooking. Well, today I felt like her, positively Nigella-esque. After my Goddess stint this morning, I feel entirely qualified in saying this: Nigella Lawson, eat your heart out. I too, am a Domestic Goddess. ( I imagine that last sentence being said very dramatically and slowly. Just sayin.)
*Note, I read this to Mr.K whilst he was on his playstation and asked him to listen for mistakes. I got to the end and he said to me "where are the muffins you made this morning?" Yeah, thanks for listening. Pft.