I can't cook and I won't cook so pass me the Fairy Liquid and I will get stuck into the washing up / Sue Plunkett

There was always one who couldn't cook and the other who refused to cook.

Guess what? I am both. It seems like all my friends, and just about everyone I know, loves to cook.

"It's so relaxing' they say. "A great way to unwind after a stressful day at work,' they also say..

But sorry I just don't get it. While so many cook with passion I hate cooking... with a passion!

There I have said it. It's something my family have become used to over the years.

"Have you made this?' they inquire warily after the plate is placed in front of them. It's a mixture of surprise and delight if it tastes good.

I can make the usual standard meals such as spaghetti bolognaise, corned beef hash and chicken in different sauces with mash and veg or chips .. but that's about it.

But even simple meals like that are not always right. My ex once commented that the 'spag bol' I had made was 'bland and tasted of nothing.'

"Oh really?' I said. I requested his plate which I promptly emptied into the dustbin and suggested he made his own tea in future. His face was a picture.

My mum tried to teach me to cook and bake, she was good at both, but as she worked full time and my dad was as a sales rep who could choose his own hours it was usually him making tea during the week.

Meals varied from liver and onions with mash to boiled ham with new potatoes and baked beans and three slices of white bread thick with butter!

My dad always used to pack my lunch box for school and one day I had a cheese and jam sandwich, a big slab of cake, a carton of orange and a bag of boiled sweets!! The teachers were horrified but I couldn't see the problem.

I also had an aunt who was a star baker and while I loved the results I was never keen to learn how to bake.

There was no need for me to cook when I got married as my husband was a dab hand in the kitchen. I did attempt a meal once, I can't remember what it was, but I tipped uncooked rice in with cooked meat and ruined the whole thing.

I never complained about his cooking, even if I didn't like it, but one Sunday he made a fabulous roast but it tasted absolutely awful and we couldn't work out why. That was until we realised he had mistaken the coffee jar for gravy! Both were in glass jars with red lids.

That is a true story and happened a good few years before Uncle Albert made the same mistake in the classic sitcom Only Fools and Horses.

I have a stack of cookery books in my kitchen and I have tried a few of the recipes but they never turn out like the photograph in the book.

I have also invested in a slow cooker but it is gathering dust somewhere in the cupboard. I now have to feed a hungry 14 year old who would eat McDonald's and KFC every day if I let him.

My partner Ian is a great cook and can whip up a mean curry from scratch. He likes to experiment with different dishes and enjoys the whole process.

But, as always, I love the end product and am always happy to do the washing up.