One of the simple pleasures of my child growing up is that I can cook for her now. No more Gerber mush from a jar. I’ve always enjoyed cooking for myself, but cooking for others is a special joy; it’s not just selfish indulgence, it’s sharing nourishment.
I’m going out to a nice dinner for my birthay tonight, but I needed to cook food for my little 1 year old so she would have dinner before the babysitter arrived. So while I stood over the stovetop, frying an egg, I felt unadulterated happiness knowing that I was so directly providing for my daughter.