It’s that time of year again, or at least I think it’s yearly, or infrequently or basically whenever the whim strikes me—it’s anchovy pizza time. I don’t crave it much, and before you got and even think the pregnant word, I’ve been an anchovy pizza lover since I was in elementary school.
My husband and I did our usual four o’clock “what are we doing for dinner?” conversation and ended up on pizza. Yesterday I’d randomly thought about anchovy pizza so today I asked if he could get a quarter of the pizza with anchovies. He didn’t know; he said he’d try.
Forty minutes later we had one quarter anchovy and the rest not-anchovy pizza. My husband gave me the look that said, “those tiny fish are smelling up the entire house and ruining my pizza experience”, but he didn’t actually say anything. I don’t think my children even noticed the smell. It was the best dinner I had all day.
The Big Boy Update: My son has been discharged from his occupational therapist for handwriting. He’s back on track and doing well and his teacher agreed he was ready to be done with the extra sessions.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter went to the mall with my mother today. They had a good time and she brought home a little mechanical dog that walks forward and barks. The dog is green, her favorite color.
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