The Mrissa Code

[mrissa]

I am fighting the urge to make a salad.

There is nothing, I will hasten to add, wrong with a salad. But we're already having tuna steaks with fresh basil and tomatoes, It's Spring Dammit Hotdish (basmati and lovely vegetables), yams, avocado, berries, and, if I get my proverbial act together, roasted plums with optional ice cream and/or sorbet. (Optional. Hah.) So really, nobody needs a salad.

I think it's genetic, the periodic need to prepare every food item in the house. You'd think it'd get better when I'm comfortable with people, but no, it gets worse. "We've got some lovely oatmeal in the cupboard, you want I should make oatmeal? No oatmeal? How about farina?"

In other news, I have figured out a major tipoff to bad Mrissish moods: if I am wearing a college sweatshirt, you may feel sure that I am harried, annoyed, or just plain exhausted. I don't own other sweatshirts, so you don't have to get close enough to tell if it's a college sweatshirt. Lucky you.

Comments

[going-not-gone.livejournal.com]

Making food is such a nurturing thing to do. Maybe when you feel the need to be nurtured, you deal with it by going into Nurture Mode, which is cooking?

Is there any correlation between the Food-Prep Urge and the Sweatshirt-wearing?

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Hmmm. Not an easy one. My Food-Prep Urge can go with energetic good moods as well.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Ooh, barbecued sweet potatoes. That does sound good. This urge, it's not all bad, I'm thinking.

[porphyrin.livejournal.com]

*g*

Roo knows he can scam crackers off of Auntie Mrissa instead of eating dinner.

I hope he doesn't learn to play on this genetic need to prepare every food item in the house!

"Missa, I ne-nee-neeed oatmeal. No! I nee-neee-neeeeeed..."

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

This is tempered, I think, by Auntie Mrissa's firm awareness of not being a short-order cook. Roo could get me to prepare him a different meal than everyone else right now, but more than one different meal is where I draw the line.

One of my best friends when I was in sixth grade had a family wherein the mother would cook separate full meals for everyone. They didn't have any food allergies or even persistent aversions. It's just that she'd make grilled cheese and tomato soup for us girls, and my friend's sibling would come in and say, "I don't want that, I want French toast!" So this woman would make up French toast, and her husband would come in and look at the French toast, the grilled cheese, and the soup and say, "I don't want that, I want chicken-fried steak!" And I remember going home and telling my mom never, ever, ever would I do that, and my mom laughing and saying, yeah, fat chance at her house, either.

[careswen.livejournal.com]

We have another friend who is like this -- with him, I believe it is a cultural (Vietnamese) thing, combined with an inability to sit still. When we're hanging out at his place, he's constantly offering to prepare food. We'll have a massive pot-luck buffet, more food than the present populace could ever put away, and he's still offering to make oatmeal. It used to embarrass me (for some unknown reason), but now I like to think of it as endearing. It's just what some people do.

He does it with more than just food, though. "Are you comfortable? Is that chair okay for you? Do you want a pillow? A blanket? Could I knit you a sweater?"

[careswen.livejournal.com]

Oh yeah, I just remembered, you met him: David, from the party.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Yep, I remember him.

I manage to restrain myself on this sort of thing, mostly. I will ask people, "Will anyone be horribly offended if I don't make [extra item]?" People who know me well have caught on to this phrasing; last night I got as far as "don't" before dd_b was saying no, and everyone agreed with him. (Silly them: they were deprived of roasted plums.)

[flewellyn.livejournal.com]

I think "nervously feeding people" is a Minnesotan thing.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

But it's not always nervous. Sometimes it's compulsive in an otherwise-relaxed situation. Last night's dinner was more relaxing than otherwise, and I still wanted to shout out the door after them, "Maybe a piece of toast on your way? We have good jams and peanut butters!"

[flewellyn.livejournal.com]

Hehehe...that is so totally my Dad's cousins, Jim and Norma, at Thanksgiving. "You sure you don't want to take some turkey with you? How about some jello salad? Pumpkin bars?"