The More Appetizing Choice Could Be the Worst Choice Ever
Life is Like Cooking When it Comes to Choices
As with cooking, in life, the more appetizing choice could actually be the worst choice ever. Most of us know what we like and don’t like. Our preferred “taste,” however, doesn’t necessarily translate into what is “best.”
Let me explain:
I take after my mother in a lot of ways. Cooking isn’t one of them. It’s not easy to admit, but the cold, hard truth is that I’m simply not a natural born-cook.
It’s pretty sucky for me, considering the fact that in my culture, much of a woman’s value is determined by her ability to whip up a dozen homemade tortillas in 30 minutes flat.
Mom can do this. In fact, I have rarely seen her cook from a recipe. Like a magician, my mother is able to throw a handful of this and a sprinkle of that into a skillet and fry week-old leftovers into a culinary masterpiece that people would kill for.
Not me.
No siree, Bob.
I got my mom’s shapely legs. I also got some of my creativity from her. Unfortunately though, despite helping mom in the kitchen nearly every day for eighteen years (minus the infant years), I just wasn’t born with what it took to be an instinctively good cook.
Cooking in My House
As a result, in my house, James does the lion’s share of the cooking. A couple of times a week, provided I have a cookbook and all the right ingredients, he might just get lucky if I attempt to put together something close to edible. When this does happen, I will say, it usually involves my spending several hours in the kitchen and dirtying virtually every piece of cookware we own.
Just last night for dinner, I slaved for hours to put together some short-of-juicy lemon, artichoke chicken with bacon, smoked gouda cauliflower “faux-potatoes.” And for dessert? Gluten free, salted chocolate chip muffins. (I substituted almond flower for whole wheat flour.)
The muffins didn’t rise, and the mashed “potatoes” were a little too globby. Nonetheless, James made a huge deal of all the trouble I went through. In fact, he was so thrilled to get a night off from the cooking, he let me off the hook 100% when it came to cleaning up the kitchen and washing all the different pieces of kitchenware I had used.
And my three year old’s reaction to the feast I lovingly prepared?
She sniffed her plate, then shoved it away.
Paloma: “I want cheese!”
Me: “There’s cheese in the potatoes. Try them.”
Paloma: “I want yellow cheese!”
Me: “Take three bites, and I’ll give you some cheese…Please?”
Paloma: “No…I’m fine.”
Me: “Mommy made you some chocolate chip muffins for dessert. Do you want one after you eat three bites of potatoes?”
Paloma: “No, I’m fine. I want a cheese stick.”
Me: “Daddy take over.”
And so, like the good husband he is, James did. Despite not being trained in the art of persuasion like I am, James was able to talk Paloma (minus threats of violence) into taking one bite of the food I had carefully prepared, tenderly, over the course of hours.
She started to dry heave.
Cupcake the Puppy and The Worst Choice Ever
Paloma just had a birthday. For her birthday, her dog-loving daddy got her a puppy. We’ve named her Cupcake.
Cupcake is raising hell and taking names. She poops on my patio and has already started to destroy my backyard. Because of all this, just this weekend, I told James it’s time to train her.
Before I had a chance to pitch a fit about Cupcake’s non-stop antics, James went to the pet store to buy the puppy some dog treats so we could get started with training without delay. Cupcake loves the treats. As it turns out, she’s not the only one.
This morning, we caught Paloma with Cupcake’s cookie crumbs all around her mouth.
My daughter likes dog food better than she likes my cooking.
I am at a loss.
The More Appetizing Choice vs. The Worst Choice
As with Paloma liking doggie treats vs. human food, what you prefer in your life is a matter of taste. Your taste in and of itself isn’t “good” or “bad”…it just “is.” The results of the choices you make based on your taste, however…those choices may not always be the best.
I love Kate Spade handbags. If I had my choice, every single time I buy a purse, it would be a Kate Spade. This would make me happy. This would satisfy my taste.
This would not be the best thing for our bank account.
Another example:
My husband likes custom cars. Currently, his car sits in our garage as he regularly pimps and washes it so people can “ooh” and “ahh” as he drives down the road. Mine, on the other hand, is scratched, dented and has bird crap all over it.
James’ taste in cars makes him happy. It isn’t always the best things for our marriage when I’m having one of those days and I’m pissed because my car is parked outside in the 120 degree heat, while his, which he rarely drives, occupies our entire garage because it is apparently one that people would vandalize or steal, given the choice between mine and his.
Choices and Your Family Law Case
Let’s talk about decisions in family law cases. Sometimes the more “appetizing” choice would be to stick it to the ex who stuck it to you by cheating with your ex-BFF, draining your bank account or just by being a no good, dirty rotten so-and-so. To some people, not only does the scorched earth litigation strategy represent their “taste” in case resolution, but it is, fun, like a sport.
If this is you (or if you are any person trying to make choices about your family law case): Making decisions based only on what you prefer is not always best. If you want to be done, consider the interests of your soon-to-be ex.
I know! Just like my cooking – this sucks. Still though, if you try to find a way to reach a solution that is best not just for you, but one that is fair to BOTH of you…you will get done more quickly and more cheaply.
If you want to stop bleeding drama, days off work and attorney’s fees, finish your case. I’ve just told you how. Put another way:
Take a bite of those bacon, smoked gouda cauliflower “faux-potatoes” that are apparently less appetizing than dog biscuits. The potatoes aren’t as bad as you think. I promise.
If you want to give them a try, give me a call.
Sending you my wishes for a week in which you don’t mistake dog biscuits for something better.
All MY best,
-w