I hate it when patriarchy subjects us ladies to the domesticity of life,
I know I don’t belong in the kitchen.
Regardless of whether I’m a man or woman.
And it doesn’t matter my culture nor my creed.
Somewhere along the line, mankind planted a different kind of seed
Into our lifestyles and understandings…
History has been sewn up with threads of inelastic reality
And the supply and demand for the hearts of women remains unchanged.
Though, I must say misogynists hit the nail on the head when it comes to the kitchen.
Okay, not all women love to cook.
But me? I have an affinity for all things related to the art of cooking.
I have affairs with my sharpened blades, they quickly remove the excess mess of life.
My smooth, wooden chopping boards can withstand all of my karate chops.
Those dishes that lie so unfaithfully in the sink, they get a good talking to every so often.
My patience grows thin with them, but sometimes I really don’t mind washing away their accumulation of grime and hard work.
As the daughter of desserts, it is my ultimate duty to produce birthday cakes
For those special days, and create tried and true baked goods to please the parents.
While I can’t help but wander back into the kitchen on days when the sky is filled with gloom, I am both guilty and proud to say I fit perfectly into the patriarchy-shaped metal tin.
I stand behind all that I create with my two hands.
Did I mention that I do wedding cakes too?