Domestic Prostitution

You've totally seen it. 

I promise. 

Girl likes guy.  Girl somehow thinks this is 1965 and bakes boy cookies, cleans up his kitchen, makes him dinner, bakes boy a pie. 

And is totally sure its gonna make him LOVE her. 

I know, just about EVERY mormon girl is guilty of a little domestic peep show . . . I once made a guy dinner once a week for almost an entire semester.  (In my defense, he was from my stake and was living off ramen noodles, apples, and peanut butter because he didn't have much money and I probably would have done the same thing even if I hadn't liked him . . . . but I'll admit to an unterior motive.)  Another time I made a guy cookies just before Christmas break only to catch him making out with some chick when I dropped them off.  (I TOLD you, I did it wrong!)   Point is, guys don't like it like you think they do.  Sure, they like cookies, but they don't make you any more datable. 

Guys will compare you to their mom after you get married.  (One time my hubby and I had a fight because I didn't make lasagna like his moms . . . which lasagna is nasty by the way . . . so I don't make lasagna anymore.  If he wants some, he can make it himself.)  Before, though . . . . dating their mom isn't really the plan. 

I once knew a girl who was so deep into domestic prostitution that she was cooking his dinners, leaving him neatly labeled lunches, doing his cleaning, and even doing his laundry.  This left him with lots of time to do whatever he wanted . . . specifically date and get engaged to a different girl. 

When you feel the need to bake the boy cookies STOP.  If it isn't his one and only birthday/Christmas gift, better to pop in a chick flick and eat the cookie dough.  If you bake cookies and there are some around when he comes by to visit, by all means, share away . . . but leading with your domestic prowress is a crap idea. 

Honestly, I think I only ever made one meal for my hubby before we were married . . . and it was a dish I took to his Mom's for a potluck dinner after we were engaged and my parents were in town.  The man didn't even know if I could cook.  Didn't matter.