My Mother The Spaghetti Monster

, , , , , | Related | September 7, 2018

(I have lived as the person who did the cooking and cleaning for several years, before having to move back in with my mum due to circumstances. I’m in my late 20s. My mum is going out for dinner tonight.)

Mum: “I’ve put a single portion of Bolognese in the fridge for you for tea.”

Me: *used to her not allowing me to cook for myself* “Okay.”

Mum: “You just need to heat it up.”

Me: “Okay.”

Mum: “You need to heat it up slowly. Put it on a low heat, add a little water—”

Me: “Mum, I’ve heated Bolognese before.”

Mum: “Yes, well, you need to add a little—”

Me: “Mum. I’ve reheated it before. I’ve been reheating it since the age of fourteen, as it’s your go-to ‘I’m going to be out this evening; food is in the fridge’ item. You don’t need to tell me.”

(There is a pause.)

Mum: “There’s spaghetti in the cupboard. If you boil the kettle—”

Me: “I know how to do that, too! I AM AN ADULT!”

Mum: “But you’ll always be my little girl!”

(She proceeded to tell me how to cook spaghetti.)

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