Homemade Pizza and Prozac

We didn’t have homemade pizza tonight but we used paper plates and those plastic support thingies. Well, I’m happy to update that Husband put his plate away when he was finished. IN FACT, he’s been putting it away since I told him he was featured in this blog. Five years of bitching, and all it took was writing about it–and then telling him I wrote about it. Never doubt the power of the written word!
~L~

CrossRoadTrippers

I made an awesomely beautiful homemade pizza tonight. My grandmother, who’s staying with us for the winter and loves pizza, was very impressed by its tastiness. My husband, who thinks he’s a pizza aficionado found it to be “amazing.” In all fairness though, he thinks a Quarter Pounder with cheese is “amazing.” While yummy in the throes of an insatiable grease craving, I would never say the burger is amazing. Regrettable, Indigestion inducing, Nap inspiring, those are all terms I’d use to describe the sandwich. But, the pizza was really good.

Anyway, pizza is something we don’t often break out the good china for. We spare my blue and white farm animal print dishes and use paper plates with those plastic support things under them. The practice has always been to use the plastic thing, throw away the paper plate when finished and put the supporter back in its place…

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