Deep Dish

Tonight when the delivery man handed over two boxes of pizza I was a little confused but didn’t let it show.

Receipt: signed. Tip: paid. Door: closed.
Pizza Hut

And then it was back to the chaos of two kids who had had less than a normal time at home today.

When Catherine came downstairs she was also confused. But not because we were eating Pizza Hut–at home–on a night we were supposed to have been instead enjoying homemade ‘za–in the company of friends from church.

As things turned out, it was our usually social butterfly of a daughter who ended up forcing us to leave the evening’s dinner party early. So early, in fact, that we hadn’t even made our own pizzas yet, let alone put them in the oven. Either Amelia still has that stomach bug from earlier in the week, or she’s learning that it makes sense to tell us that her stomach hurts [when she’s merely hungry]. But you simply can stay at a party when your daughter is clutching at her stomach with her clenched little hand, at least, not the same week as having had said stomach bug.

And here we were all week, Catherine and I, thinking about the approaching pizza party and how to best prepare our Aspie son for the unknowns…

Sometimes you simply get surprised. And confused. And have to make the best of it.

Like when the one pan pizza ordered from Pizza Hut turns out to be two. For the price of one.


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