Have you ever posted something because it's late at night, your back hurts, you're holding a pity party in your head and you want to get it out of your system?
Either I am a terrible cook, overly sensitive, or both.
Even I will admit the pound cake was dry.
I shouldn't have listened to my grandma's advice and baked it early, trusting that the Tupperware cake keeper would indeed keep it moist.
I should have turned the tap on while I went to the bathroom--maybe then I wouldn't have heard the jokes and gagging as someone pretended to choke on a slice.
Maybe I wouldn't have heard the only two other women--both successful professionals--agree that they would have just "outsourced" the food for the cookout.
Maybe it was that one of them, when prompted by her boyfriend to help me with the setup, replied, "I've worked hard all week. I think I'll just sit and be served."
You've worked hard all week?
Why is it that no one would dare make a socially demeaning comment about another woman's professional career--yet everyone feels free to have an opinion about the way an at-home wife works? Don't people understand that I honestly can't afford to outsource everything? Or that I wouldn't for health reasons, even if I could afford to? That given my life choices, making this food is my job--and so much more?
I know that some of these people are just plain hard to please. Still, my feelings hurt in a way that my husband will never understand.
I'm wishing I had not thrown away the rest of that lemon pie. I could use something sweet right now.