Dear Mom, I love you very dearly, but it’s time we had a one-on-one conversation about your cooking.

You’re a passionate and loving mother, which I love, and I enjoy your food, well, most days at least.

I love it when you make my favorite pasta, even if it’s just once a month, or your delicious mashed potatoes.

Don’t get me wrong, I love spaghetti and lasagna, but every week for two days in a row is not my first choice.

Before you started your new job and got to work from home, you always talked about getting more time to try new recipes.

I was so excited, except it never happened. Instead, I’m stuck eating spaghetti every single day of my tragic life.

It’s not entirely your fault – it is mostly my brother, Jared Sanchez’s, fault. He is a very picky eater, from not wanting to eat vegetables to only wanting to eat McDonald’s all day, every day.

I’ll admit I’m a picky eater some days as well, but I will try the fresh dish you cooked up for us, even if I don’t like it.

You have a rotation of a few dishes every week: spaghetti, lasagna, carne con arroz, tacos, and macaroni and cheese.

Three out of those five meals are Jared’s favorites, one of them is my choice, and the last one is our usual Saturday meal, which is macaroni and cheese.

I am not writing this story so people can judge your cooking; I’m writing this in the hope that you will find it in your loving motherly heart to try new recipes, despite Jared being the pickiest child in the world.

It’s entirely okay for him not to like the meals; he can find his own meals to cook and eat if he refuses to eat your home-cooked meals.

I am very appreciative of your cooking and meals. It’s just hard eating the same meals every week, and I’m happy I have a mother who cooks for her children. Possibly, it’s time to try something new.

We also need to stop eating fast food almost every day, because I don’t think I could eat another McChicken. That’s a lie, I would die for a McChicken in this very moment.

I could also help you do some cooking and help you find recipes that Jared will consider eating, if you don’t mind. No promises we will, but it is worth a try, anything to not have to eat spaghetti for the rest of my life.

I really hope you consider my letter, as I am your beautiful, loving daughter. I love you and your cooking to the moon and back.