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Wednesday, January 2, 2013

More than Pie

Pizza.  Growing up pizza meant Friday at school or Mom was sick and Dad had to get dinner.  It was a treat and growing up in New York meant of course that I've only ever known the best pizza in the world.  Thin crust, oozy gooey cheese and a bit of sweet tomato sauce.  

I remember being able to split a pizza with one girlfriend.  Yes, we each ate four whole slices while we talked about boys and fed quarters into the jukebox.

I remember thinking pizza was still a Friday treat as a new wife and mother.  We would go grocery shopping on pay day then out for a pie.  


Something about pizza and talking it over.  Tonight I am a little tired after my first day back at work.  I'd had almost 2 weeks off for the Christmas/New Year holidays and have done my fair share of cooking so I welcome the break of pizza.  Funny enough, my sons told me this past year that they are tired of pizza.

Tired of pizza?  The statement seems outrageous to me.  We only have pizza maybe twice a month at the most and who doesn't crave a perfect pie?

This evening though my older son, husband and I gather around the kitchen table and have a good, hard chat about safety in the workplace.  Our older son is concerned about some of the work conditions at his job, what to do about it if anything and how many of his examples are negligence on behalf of this employer or if they are simply employee responsibility or preference.

  

The classic New York style cheese pizza or pie has survived all of my stages of life from childhood through adulthood and has likely been appropriately served as a casual meal, a birthday celebration and yes, we even had some as a late night snack after our wedding.  

Pie is just the thing when you need to talk it over and feel Fed Well.

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