Oh boy,
here it comes…
One of my very first cooking experiences came when my sister and I had absolutely
nothing to eat for lunch except for a packet of soup. Henceforth, I decided to make some soup…
Turns
out that I put too much water in it (which was one of the ingredients, mind you) and
it ended up tasting like slugs. You should have seen the look on my sister’s face when she slurped it… 
Ever since then, I haven’t been able to cook anything on my own, not even
soup. It absolutely has to be prepackaged or premade if I’m going to cook it, and
even then I sometimes have a few difficulties completing the task (though hardly ever). And don’t even get me
started on the stove. I didn’t even know how to turn the dang thing on until just a few years back… 
See, this is exactly why I’m so glad that they
put Linguini in the film. Now I know I’m not the only wimp, except for the fact that I’m nowhere near as bad as
Linguini. At least I’ve never set anything on fire. 
The only thing I’m good at making (as far as
food goes) are sandwiches. I’ll just make up my own inventions when it comes to those, and it turns out that my
sister really likes them (surprise, surprise). But, truth be told, I absolute
hate cooking; can’t stand the art, sorry to say. And
the funny thing is that I love to read about it, watch it on television, and eat the food, but I don’t like to
actually do it. It’s pitiful…
My sister, on the other hand, is on her way to becoming a culinary
genious (hence her new nick-name, “Remy”). She
[i]loves[/i] cooking and currently wants to be a chef and work
in Pixar’s kitchen when she grows up. Looks like we’ll be working in the same department/studio then, if our
lives happen to turn out the way we want them to go/succeed. 