I've been called many things in my life, but the only word that truly seems to offend me is that insulting four-lettered "C" word. Cook. In order to avoid the label, it seems I've had to struggle all my life to avoid any hint of the actions or activities that would make it true; that is, cooking. Also, basting, roasting, stirring, baking, boiling, broiling, grilling, frying or any combination thereof.
Some might call my aversion to cooking a symptom of larger issues, diagnosing some sort of weird psychological disorder, or imagining that it's all my mother's fault. Some might even accuse me of being lazy. In my own defense, life is short. I'm prioritizing. Not cooking gives me more time to do things I like without the subsequent greasy pan/dirty stove punishment. Don't get me wrong. I like to eat; I just hate the whole multifarious preprocess that allows me to do so, as well as the after-process that makes me avoid the preprocess in the first place. I have a theory that it should take longer to consume and/or enjoy something than it takes to create and/or clean up after it.
As a result, I've developed 19 ways that have allowed me to (mostly) avoid cooking. Maybe they'll work for you too. You may have already tried some of them - perhaps unsuccessfully - but, as would be my advice for most things in life - never give up. There are more smoke alarm batteries where those came from. You might not always be able to avoid it, but you can certainly keep trying to avoid it.
So the first rule is, start avoiding the kitchen when you're young. I learned this basic rule from my little brother, who typically broke something every time it was his turn to do the dishes, thereby leading my mother to conclude that I was the only sibling capable of doing the dishes. Sometimes I think he got married and had kids specifically so he could continue not doing the dishes.
If you get an Easy-bake oven as a gift, exchange it for a puppy. Or high heels and a boa. It's never too early to be fashionable.
Your mother wants to bond in the kitchen. Suggest more amusing alternatives - a bikini wax, major surgery without anesthetic, or my personal favorite - pulling each other's fingernails out by the roots. [In this case, of course, the word "bond" is a verb, with a secret meaning: to teach you how to cook so she doesn't have to do it anymore.]
Go to college and live in the dorm. Not only do they prohibit cooking in your room, they feed you three meals a day so you won't have to.
Once you graduate (in 10 or 15 years, if you're really good at this), work in the food services industry. Yes, I know the pay is low, but the benefits usually include free meals. If you're really committed, become a food critic. Just because you don't like to cook doesn't mean you won't like to eat food someone else cooks for you, especially if your boss pays for it and the kitchen staff of every restaurant in town is fawning all over you.
If you're physically fit and don't mind taking orders, but don't want to keep living with your mother, join the military. They not only cook for you, they do it for free.
Get invited to dinner. And every time you're invited to dinner, bring flowers, wine and an overabundance of effusive compliments. Don't bring dessert because almost everyone's on a diet. You'll be invited back more often if you get your hosts tipsy and make them feel loved and appreciated, rather than sober, fat and guilty.
Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you're going to find yourself in the unfortunate position of food-tender. Burn everything. It's not subtle, nor is it inexpensive, but after the first five or six times, it's quite effective. (Plus, the insurance company might be willing to finance your new, smaller kitchen.)
Undercook food consistently. Since there is a way to correct this, make sure everyone is very hungry and it's very late, but not so late that all the takeout places are closed. (Have the takeout menus prominently displayed during the "cooking" process. That way, your family or dinner guests won't spend much time mad at you because they're busy arguing with each other about what to order and from where.)
Crash diet frequently. People are less likely to expect you to cook if you're less likely to eat.
Work hard at convincing people you don't know how to cook. Even if you really don't know how to cook, thanks to the political process, people are way more skeptical of facts than they used to be. Also, this is one suggestion that could backfire as it implies you are capable of learning to cook. You're not. So you'll have to convince people that you're not only unable to cook, but unable to learn, all at the same time.
Never, under any circumstances, buy cookware, even if it would look fabulous hanging from your kitchen ceiling.
Don't ever accept cookware as a gift. And, by the way, if someone is insensitive enough to give you cookware as a gift, find yourself a new friend.
Make sure your kitchen is too small and cramped to cook in and that your kitchen table is only large enough to accommodate one chair. Better yet, rent an apartment without a kitchen and save yourself the expense of a table and chair.
If your stove isn't already broken, break it. Disconnecting the burners while leaving them in place works well; a sledgehammer does too. Make sure you deplete your bank account and credit limits to the point where you can't afford to replace the stove or hire a repair man. Buying takeout every night will help.
You can own a microwave (in fact, it's a must for heating up leftover take-out), but make do with a two slice toaster. A toaster oven, though small, mimics an actual oven.
Use the parental controls to block the cooking channels on your TV. The problems with cooking shows are obvious to all but the most gullible non-cooks. Everything looks easy. Everything looks beautiful. Everything seems to smell wonderful and taste delicious. Everything is ready at the same time and at the proper temperature, served on the appropriate serve-ware. You'd never even guess that the beautiful "finished" meal is actually preserved with formaldehyde or that the spray starch that makes the food shiny and pretty also makes it tasteless and toxic. (Pretty much the same thing that happens with your meals, but you and yours don't look that pretty because you don't have a stylist and a staff of 14 to do the actual work.)
Befriend and butter up the people who think the four-lettered "C" word is a compliment. You can even marry one of them if you're looking for a long-term, monogamous cooking arrangement.
Don't buy food. A well stocked refrigerator gives people the mistaken impression that you might be able to combine all those ingredients into something edible or even tasty. The only things that you should have in your refrigerator are leftover take out, beverages, and batteries. Better yet, have something growing in there - people will avoid opening your refrigerator at all.
Maybe you're already one of the lucky ones. Maybe you're married to or living with someone who, a little bit twisted, loves to cook. If it's a spouse and you're in the 50th percentile that doesn't end in divorce, problem solved. If you're 50, however, and still living with your mom, well, chances are, you're going to outlive her. It's likely that, at some point, you're not only going to be sad, you're going to be hungry too. Start looking for a significant other before it becomes a necessity because it's not easy finding one you like who also likes to cook.
I'll confess that's how I finally solved my problem. I married someone who likes to cook. It did, however, take many years of his trials and my errors before we discovered this not insignificant piece of information. Even though he looks like he'd rather shoot you than cook for you, he isn't at all offended by the four-lettered "C" word label. He actually enjoys cooking (and eating) on a regular basis. I plan to enjoy it as long as he does. I just hope he never leaves me for someone who likes to do the dishes.
