My mama told me...

My mother told me to learn how to cook. She taught all five of us. With three boys, two girls, a farm and a husband who was away a lot trying to earn a living on the road - why does my life suddenly sound like a Country & Western tune? - she needed all the help she could get. She was also a pragmatist - soft and caring, but only to a point. She knew that she needed us to pull our weight. But, she also understood that we needed to be self-reliant.
So in between shooting things, blowing stuff up, racing around like a galoot, lighting my own farts (or watching my siblings light theirs), being a ratbag - an idiot - a yeehaw - I, we all, learnt how to sew on a button or mend a sock. We were instructed in the fine arts of washing our clothes and hanging them on the line. We could whip up a meal out of a near empty fridge. We could drive a car in an emergency. We could change our younger brother's nappy and burp him after a feed. She taught us how to listen and how to argue.
She taught me enough to know that when I entered into a relationship, I knew I didn't need a mother. I needed a lover, a friend, a co-conspirator in life.
Being self-reliant is the best thing she ever taught me.
The thing she never taught me was how many women would resent the very idea.