Joe is almost 15, and he doesn’t like to cook, and honestly, I’m ok with that.  I enjoy cooking, Roy cooks occasionally, and so does Corey.  If Joe can help out in other ways, I’m cool with that.  Sure, a part of me worries that when he goes away to college, he will eat Ramen and microwaved burritos all the time, but I also know he is pretty smart, and he can figure it out if he wanted too.

Corey’s swim team has their first meet this Saturday.  It is something of a tradition to do a pasta party a few days before as sort of a team gathering.  Family is invited and the boys all enjoy going and seeing Corey’s friends - plus there is always a ton of cookies for the younger boys to gnaw on!  Roy is out of town, and I made plans to go to lunch with my mom yesterday.  I figure it would be a long day, but I enjoy seeing my mom and wanted to go, so I thought we would make the best of it.  Plus the younger boys could nap on the long car rides to and from my mom’s house.

I was heading home, and once Addi got home, he gave me a call.  He and I chatted and then I asked for Joe.

“Hey, Mom!” Joe got on the phone.

“Hey, how was school?” I asked him.

“Good.  Are you coming home?”

“I am.  I should be there in about 45 minutes barring traffic.  Can you get started on the Mac and Cheese?”

I usually try to do something homemade for the past party, but it was either Kraft mac and cheese (actually I think it is Costco brand) or a pit stop at KFC as there are only so many hours in the day.

“Ok, I guess…” he sounded unsure, and I smiled to myself.

“Go over to the pantry and get out three boxes from the big box on the shelf.”  I heard him shuffling around.

“Ok, got it.  What do I do now?”

“Get out my big pot.  NOT the skillet or my big red pot.”  I have a HUGE Le Creuset pot.  Honestly, I don’t even know how many quarts it is.  Let’s just say when it’s full of water I have been known to call Roy to empty it, and I don’t consider myself a weak woman.  Yes, it is that big - hence it is known as Mom’s big red pot.

“Ok, which one is that?” He asked me with confusion and frustration starting to creep into his voice.

Hmm…what do I tell him?  “Not the skillet, which is the pot with the long handles.”

“Do you mean the round one… god, I am so dumb at this stuff!”  He was mumbling to himself, and I smiled more.  My son is hardly dumb.  “Do you mean the one with the handles on each side?” 

He sounded so hopeful that I probably would have said yes even if that wasn’t the pot I was talking about, but it was, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ok, I got it.” He told me he loved me, and we hung up.

About 10 minutes later he called back.

“Mom, how much stuff do I put in?”

“What stuff?”  I was confused as the directions are right on the box.  “Do you mean the butter and milk?”

“Yeah, it says 4 tablespoons of butter.  So, if I am making three boxes…”  He trailed off, and I was a bit surprised.  Joe is very good at math.  In fact, if Roy isn’t around, I will often ask him to help Addi as these “new ways” of doing elementary and middle school math sometimes give me a headache, and yet here he was confused about making adjustments about butter?

But then I realized it’s just because he didn’t want to disappoint me.  He knew I was counting on him because I was rushing around all day, and he wanted to get it right.  I told him the amounts of butter and milk he would need. 

“Ok, thanks, mom.  See you soon!”  We said good bye and hung up.

I pulled into the driveway about 25 minutes later.  Walking into the kitchen I saw Joe with his iPod on, singing, and stirring a big pot of mac and cheese.  He saw me walk in, Dean sleeping in my arms, and took off his ear phones.

“Hey, mom!”

“Hey!  You’re still in your (JROTC) uniform.” I was wondering why he hadn’t changed. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure I did it all right.”  He said this as he passed me, running upstairs to change.  “I think I did it right, but can you check it?”

This was just a carton of boxed mac and cheese, something I could make in my sleep.  But I realized that he was proud of himself for getting it done, so I didn’t have to.  I assure Joe that is all cooking is.  Following the directions.  And as you go, you gain confidence (just like so many other things in life), and you make adjustments to suit your own tastes.

Ramen, microwaved burritos, and boxed mac and cheese - he might be ok in college.