A lot of my weekend revolved around pizza, good pizza. If you want to have a good weekend, make it revolve around good pizza. You're guaranteed success.
On Friday night, my neighbor called and asked if we wanted to get together for dinner. Unlikely as it was, I preferred not to go out. Instead, I invited them over for homemade pizza. The kids ate in the family room and watched TV while the four adults sat around my kitchen island talking and eating a parade of pizzas as they came out of the oven: barbeque chicken pizza, honey chicken pizza, and Thai chicken pizza. We didn't use plates; we barely used napkins. We ate and licked our fingers and talked and talked and talked. When we ran out of pizza, I sliced pears and oranges and we talked while we ate those too.
Saturday afternoon, I got a text invitation from another neighbor. A new pizza place had been discovered. We accepted the invitation and bid the kids farewell. We ate broccoli rabe and sausage pizza in a dark corner while Ryan told us sad stories. If you're going to hear a sad story, make sure you're eating really good pizza. At one point, I used the bathroom. The stall was decorated with framed pictures of Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, and a young, vibrant Elvis. I asked them to close their eyes while I tinkled.
Sunday afternoon, I made another honey chicken pizza for lunch. Max said that once he removed the chicken, the pizza was, "so, sooo good." (As compared to so-so good.)
Today, a day off, we ate pizza again. My nephew, the D.C. intern, came to visit. We took him with us to see Avatar and then we stopped for pizza at the same place we ate on Saturday night. This time, though, we sat in a bright corner and told happy stories. There was Philly cheesesteak pizza, but I think my nephew preferred the plain ol' cheese pizza best. Later, we dropped him off at the bus station and waited in the parked car until we saw him board his bus. He looked so young and I felt so old. I was glad he had a couple of slices of pizza in a take-out box to keep him company for his bus ride back.
Tomorrow another week starts. There are science projects to finish, catalogs to proof, and hours of Haitian relief-efforts to watch. There are bedtimes to enforce and sheets to wash and nieces and nephews to confirm as friends on facebook.
I love the weekend. And pizza.