Sittin' Pretty

I ordered the wrong pizza last night.

Nobody seemed to care as much as I did but I can't seem to get over it. We order pizza maybe a half-dozen times a year and it is such a treat to open the lid and lean into the dreamy scent of the cheesy steam that escapes the box. Last night when I opened the box I expected to see a puffy crust encircling a delicate 6-cheese combination of loveliness, instead there was thin crust. Two boxes full of thin crust.

The thin crust and I, we are not friends.

I'd ordered on my phone with an app and when I hit the little button that said "Complete Order" I actually said aloud, "What is this world coming to? I can order pizza on the way home from the store, from the car without talking to a single person. It's really kind of amazing isn't it?" To which my Man said with all of the wonder that he could muster, "Yes, it really is."

I was significantly less amazed when I opened the pizza box.

What really is amazing is how a poorly selected button on a pizza app on my phone can still be irking me all these many hours later. My Man, in response to this morning's replay of the pizza lamentations, said "You just need a pizza do over don't ya?"

"Oh yes," I said grinning big that he understood. "On that and so much more."

Often the days between Christmas and New Year's are generally a time of mentally tweaking the celebration that has been. Smiling about what went well, and wishing that an event or two had gone differently. I'll think of a Christmas card that should have been mailed that wasn't. I'll remember something I'd wanted to do this year that was cast aside once more. I'll be wanting to have made a different plan with the allocation of resources... be it time or energy or finances.

"I need a bunch of do overs this year," I told him and then listed a handful of examples for emphasis.

"Ah," said he nodding, "but today is good."

He's not wrong.


In the kitchen, the fridge is full (including left-over thin crust pizza which will be lunch) and so is the crock pot.

Outside, six inches of snow covers the ground and the trees and the mailbox.

Upstairs, the voice of an excited seven-year-old makes plans to disrupt the peaceful snowy scene with sleds and snowballs.

On the TV there will be football and lots of it.

In a make-shift beauty salon a while ago, a four-year-old was given free reign with her mama's fingernails

Beside me right now is a stack of books, selected with care and given as a gift.

On the other side of me sits my Man, who has the flu, but who still thinks that today is good.

And it is...it really, really is.