Something about pizza makes me happy.
In my family, Friday nights were movie and pizza nights. My parents say Chad and I would argue over the bigger pieces, measuring them out to be sure all was fair. I would watch him like a hawk to make sure he didn’t take more than his allotment. I’m still a pizza fanatic. I’d rather burn an extra 500 calories on the spin bike than give up a piece. I’m salivating just thinking about it. As a child, pizza meant family and sleepovers. In college, it meant late night studying with my roommates. These days it means we need to relax.
Joey was gone all week at a conference in Kansas City and I was sick when he returned (physically sick…not mad that he returned), so we’ve had a rough few days. I’m thinking we’ll try out the new Marco’s Pizza for dinner tonight. Our local favorite is Sandro’s, but you have to call them an hour ahead of time because they are ssssllloooowwww. Maybe the cheesy goodness will redeem our weekend.