Where's Mine?

I wanted it. I needed it.

The cheesy goodness was about to be mine after running a limo service all Sunday afternoon.

My husband and I made an executive decision to order a pizza for dinner since there had been no time to prepare a meal. For as busy as our weekdays are, with work and school, the weekends are even worse.

In fact, I wouldn't even call what we have a weekend. It is more or less two days without work spent in my van. It's not quite an Uber because those drivers get paid in cash. I get compensated by getting to spend extra time with my teens, and the real joy is wondering which teens I'll be transporting - Jeckels or Hydes.

Anyway, I digress. Although our Sundays are usually busy, this past one had a few extras tacked on. By the time I got home it was around 6 p.m. My only desire at that point was to sit down, watch an episode of The Crown, on Netflix, and enjoy a warm, crusty, cheesy bite of heaven.

So there were only 4 pieces left when I got home. It was ok. Only my daughter and I hadn't eaten yet. Once she opened the box she said, "I'm probably going to eat all of these. I'm that hungry." (Keep in mind she had only had a small lunch five hours earlier.)

Then my youngest walked in the kitchen and said, "I'm still hungry."

Slowly with each cut - the pieces were disappearing. My cheese reward was getting further and further away from me. Finally, there was just a mere sliver of green pepper pizza left. My youngest reappeared.

"Do you want this?" I reluctantly said, knowing what the answer would be. And then it was gone.

Ordering pizza has been something we have done occasionally for decades. It's always been a large, one topping pizza. Sometimes half with pepperoni and half with green peppers. But at some point along the way, as the kids got bigger and their appetites grew, our order pretty much stayed the same.

Although, as with most things I have bought consistently over time, sizes have changed. Look at a package of Oreos - way smaller than 20 years ago. A "Family Size" bag of potato chips certainly has shrunk over time and don't get me started on Twinkies!

 The pizza we get now is called X-Large but it only has two more pieces than the large. Now the term X-Large sounds huge and should be able to feed 5 people but alas it does not. (Although my family does consist of two adults, two teens and one 8-year-old who, depending on the day, may actually want to eat.)  If we went back in time, like to the olden days when I was a teen, an X-Large pizza probably fed 10 people. It was probably that big. But when you consider inflation, downsizing and global warming - pizzas certainly have shrunk. (Except a Vinnie Pie of course.)

So it seems that maybe I was already bitter before PizzaGate 2020 but, when I looked at the empty box, all I saw was red. Actually the box was brown, but you understand the metaphor. And with all rationality out the window I did what any 45-year-old woman would do.

"I'm going to my parents' house," I exclaimed as I slammed the door and made my escape.

I called them from the car to see if they were home and sure enough they were. I asked if they were up for a visit and of course they were. I didn't get into the hows, whats or whys over the phone of what had happened with the pizza - it seemed childish at this point as I had already begun to cool down. But my parents must have been able to sense in my tone something was amiss.

 When I walked through their door there was already a glass of wine sitting out for me in the living room. It was a sight that almost made up for the cheese depression I had just experienced. It makes my heart happy to still have people in my life that oftentimes can anticipate what is needed before it is even said. Moms often take a backseat and just a little "Hey, you matter too!" Is needed amidst the chaos of family life.

So there are a few lessons that we can all take away from this pizza fable. 1. You can never order too much pizza. (It will be eaten. If not today, then definitely tomorrow.) 2. A glass of wine is not a substitute for a piece of pizza but it can help you forget that you wanted one. 3. There is no place like home - even if it is your childhood one.