I'm Good, By Kelly LeDuff
By Kelly LeDuff
On any other day, I would normally go out and get something quick to eat. Today, I plan to start saving my money to prove to myself that I can conquer that thing called cooking. No longer will I tell my mom, “I’m good, I don’t need to learn how to cook! I’ll just use my allowance to buy something to eat.” I’m confident I know how to be resourceful, and I don’t need to learn anything else about cooking. Leaving my room, I confidently head into the kitchen and make my way toward the cabinets. Opening one, I peer inside to see what kind of canned food my mom has stored. A frown graces my lips at the sight of canned carrots, the expiration date showing it expired a few days ago. Grabbing the can, I chuck it in the trash before closing the cabinet and opening another door. Now, I’m greeted by the sight of various cooking spices, but nothing to satisfy my hunger.
Sighing, I close the cabinet door and leaned against the counter. Giving myself a pep talk, I reminded myself that I’m capable of solving problems on my own. I would not call my mom to ask for suggestions. I would solve this dilemma, because I am determined, inventive, resourceful, independent and, most of all, still hungry. I refuse to give in and leave the house to spend my money, so I tried to remember if my mom mentioned anything about leftovers. Suddenly, I grinned as I began making my over to the fridge. I remembered helping Mom cook some leftover steak and smothered potatoes recently. Opening the fridge door, I peered inside for a minute or two before spotting a plate covered with tinfoil. I reached inside and grasped the plate lovingly before moving to stand up. I closed the door behind me as I made my way back over to the counter. Setting the plate down, I felt exhilarated. Once again, I was able to think through my choices and find an answer to my problem. That’s me, a self-confident girl with a drive to succeed and conquer life’s little complications.
My stomach grumbles with a ravenous hunger, my mouth begins to water at the thought of eating the leftover steak and smothered potatoes. Moving my hands slowly but methodically, I grasped the tinfoil and remove it from the plate. Recoiling at the putrid scent as it hits my nose, I felt stunned. I had a vivid flashback to the first time my father said the word “No” to me and how it felt like my world was ending! How could this be, how could I be denied what I wanted?! The smell was revolting; reminding me of the time my cousin went a whole week without washing his gym clothes. Covering my nose, I peered down at the plate of food before letting out a sad sigh. The steak. no longer succulent, wore a dull, lifeless gray hue. The smothered potatoes now resembled mush, looking like something my cousin would feed to her baby. How could I feel so dejected? What happened to my confidence?
Bowing my head and saying a prayer to God, I ask for a solution to my hunger problem. Suddenly, I grinned once more as I recalled my father’s encouraging words, “Handle your business, work comes first.” So, I walked back to the fridge and opened the door. How could I have forgotten that I already know how to scramble eggs, toast bread, and fry several breakfast items? Taking the breakfast items out of the fridge, I feel my determination and resourcefulness returning along with my understanding that I need to learn more. Not only can I see the omelet, I can see the balance of my savings account getting higher. Next time my mom wants to give me cooking lessons, I’ll confidently say, “I’m good, let’s get started”.