Hello, mother. It has now been over two weeks since I opened my wings and began life on my own. All has been fine with the exception of one problem that seems to have sprung up - your dirty antics with food preparation.

Yes, that's right. You decided that it would be a fantastic idea to make God's gift to man, this Memorial Day weekend. And that gift was potato salad. You made it knowing full well that I would not be there to partake of the feast. You made it knowing full well that it would drag back my brothers who were having a most excellent weekend at my bachelor pad.

Well, despite your best attempts I am not mad. I am not bitter, sorrowful or sad. For you see, Okasa, I am well within the means to make my own potato salad - a potato salad hewn from the kitchen of my own sweat and tears. A march of miles to acquire the ingredients needed to concoct this wonder of man. And, even if your own salad of tubers had been constructed of motherly love, the due hardships that I had to face in brewing my own makes the deliciousness become exponentially more so.

So, there it is, mia madre. You will have to try harder in the future to tempt me with your foody ways. But, beware. This is a road difficult and wrought with many perils, perils such as a public "shaming" on a blog read by scant few per month. Fear what I have created!