I have documented the pizza process that occurs about once every nine days at my home. It is regularly accompanied by brain cancer and Lennon. Now, I am letting you in on it too. (To the left of this text, my hairy little Pomeranian being "dipped" by my dear boyfriend.)
Many activities go on during the preheating stage... Dance lessons, horseplay and wii are reoccurring activities. Speaking of which, Lennon just taught me to moonwalk.
Next is the finished product, a delicious, cheesy pizza waiting for Lennon to come and split it into 8 beautiful, mouthwatering pieces. While he does this I fix me a glass of delicious brain cancer. I know, bad habit that I need to kick. (I prefer the term "guilty pleasure" over the harshness of "bad habit")
The point of this blog however, isn't just to talk about pizza night and its lovely deliciousness, but to talk of tradition and the emotions that tie along with them. See, like super bowl to a big gnarly football playing man, pizza night to me is a fun bonding experience with other people who almost enjoy pizza half as much as I do. Bonding over coffee is nice, but whats with all the sophistication all the time? Gotta get a little "ham on the wall" bonding here and there. Who says you can't reinforce what you believe over brain cancer and overly processed tomato and cheese?
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