My mother likes to cook

AKA Everything is a feminist marvel. Everything.

My mother likes to cook. 

My mother is a Nigerian woman. My mother was born in the 60s. My mother was born in a traditional Nigerian rural community. A matriarchy built on the understanding that the women were the smart ones. Smart enough to pretend that the men were in charge. 

The men were thankful, but not too observant. They forgot who put them in charge. They forgot they weren't actually in charge. 

My mother learned to cook. She learned to cook before she learned to love it. 

She knew what to do. She did it. 

First child. A son. He loved her cooking. He looked the food, knew how it was made. He liked to cook. He liked her cooking more. 

Second child. A daughter. She learned to cook.

Third child. A daughter. 

Outlier. She liked to cook. She learned. 

She learned to cook because she liked to cook. 

Error. 

Last child. Daughter. 

Outlier. She didn't want to learn. She didn't want to watch. She didn't want to eat. 

Error. Error. Error. 

My mother likes to cook. Now. 

First child. 24. Cooks. Prefers to eat. 

Second child. Cooks. Likes to cook. She has to cook. 

Third child. Learned to cook. Learned. 

Fourth child. Outlier. 

My mother likes to cook. The difference was subtle, but it was there. I didn't have to help after a while. She liked the space. She liked the silence. She liked.

I didn't have to ask. She made it. She made it and it was hers, and it was everyone else's. 

She leaves to watch TV. Sometimes it's singed. Most times it's not. She doesn't mind either way. She likes to cook. 

She likes to cook. So she buys food from other places. She saves herself, waits until it's right, waits until she likes. 

My mother likes to cook. And so do I. 

Author's Note

This isn't really anything. I just felt like it. It doesn't make much sense, but it's not meant to.