This is my world-Washington, D.C. Sitting outside tonight, a beautiful (thank God the heat wave has abated summer night), staring at the beautiful city, having a delicious blow my mind I love you pizza dinner, I decided to introduce you to my world.
“When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie that’s amore” (sorry, I couldn’t resist)
And, also pretty, was this:
Look at that beauty! What a wonderful night.
Pizza night was Friday night. Every Friday night I would come home, exhausted after a week of work and boy eat (let’s call him that-boy eat) and I would not be in the mood to make dinner, and it became a tradition: Pizza, on Fridays, every Friday. This gave us a break from the norm, the stir frys, the pastas and it gave us something to look forward to all week, and that was wonderful.
The dilemma came on any given random Tuesday when I.wanted.pizza.now., when my body.wanted.pizza.now. and I thought, but, Friday, Friday is pizza night.
I guess the point is that sometimes traditions are good. Like, for example, I take the time to make pancakes for breakfast, usually on Saturdays, if I feel like it, and sometimes, traditions are too hard, like eating pizza.on.Fridays.no it is Tuesday you cannot have pizza because what about Pizza Friday. Being too rigid hurts us and I learned that the hard way.
Fortunately, after time after time of disappointing Fridays when I did not feel like pizza or mustering up the urge for pizza on Fridays and eating it only to half-enjoy this delicious from the Gods food, I decided to drop the rule and enjoy pizza when my body wanted pizza so that on the night I really.wanted.pizza.now I could enjoy it.
Best decision I ever made. Here’s to you, pizza, world’s most wonderful food. Now, that’s amore.