Yesterday, I was rooting around in my cabinets looking for my cornstarch and I realized how adult my cupboards are. They smell like my mother's kitchen cabinets--this aroma of spicy chili powder, the green smell of oregano and the distinctive odor of cumin. I have cupcake papers next to red pepper flakes. Cans of cat food sit near cans of tomato soup. Bags of flour and sugar, bottles of oil, vinegar and unopened salad-dressing. Bread crumbs. I even own chicken broth and beef cubes.
I think it's officially home here. I bought a coffee-maker yesterday and it sits proudly on my counter. I have a mixer, a microwaver and a George Foreman (thanks, Rosehill28!). My food cabinets are always full. I have the staples of life lined up along shelves.
It's strange. I am assuming adulthood without even realizing it. My kitchen is the proof.
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