Well, it doesn't necessarily make you a NoAccount, depending on the circumstances. Rather than risk sinking the MOAB under some heavy material at this juncture, maybe a quick funny story about each of our mothers would be a safe segue into green BS pastures.

My mother, for example, liked to cook, but as we got older and everyone was in a hurry, and as she was a working single mother, she didn't get much chance to try out new stuff. One time she decided it was time to try something new on the four of us, and picked up some recipes at the County Ag Extension Agent's office. Two were particularly memorable. Liver and Kidney Teriyake. Think about it. Diced brown gland meat in a brown sauce, the look and consistency of canned dog food. We renamed it Liver and Kidney Hare Kari, and she never made it again. Then there was the abomination of all desserts, a recipe came in an "enough to feed a small private army" quantity that it didn't occur to her to reduce. It was grape tapioca pudding. It seemed to bubble up in the pan to fill the entire kitchen before it was finished, and it looked like some demented wallpaper paste. I like my pudding simple and subtle, and I love vanilla, so this concord grape stuff was, well, almost indescribable, so I won't try.

To move to my generation of cooking, I think my "burned potatoes in the pressure cooker" will be one of those cooking diasters my kids will remember. Jeez, but do they smell bad! Too bad mom isn't around, or she'd have gotten a charge out of that story. (She came to the rescue for friends and family several times with her pressure cookery talents.)

Or is cooking a safe subject when discussing one's mother (or ex-mother of one's children)? What do you say, MOM (MOAB)?