That's Amore'!!

PIZZA!! What kid doesn't love pizza? That tasty lip-smacking round (and sometimes square in certain areas and countries)tomato-y, cheesey slice of heaven? I always loved pizza night at our house growing up. Mom would make some dough from scratch and other times from Peter Pan Instant Pizza Dough (just add water and oill)and whip out the pizza fixin's. Mozzarella cheese, hamburger, green olives...mmm-mmm! That's good eatin'! Nothing was better than Mom's homemade pizza. Pizza night rocked because we would get to drink Pepsi with our pizza. When we were much younger we would drink Kool-aid there was only 1 sccop of sugar in that. But, Pizza and Pepsi night was something we really looked forward to. It was usually before 4-H meetings or Trick-or-Treating because it was fast and easy and the caffeine/sugar rush helped to keep us awake for a few hours. When I was a teenager I would to stay at my friend, Lisa's, house and we would add our own toppings to a pizza. Extra cheese (nearly an inch and a half thick), a can of mushrooms (just the small can), green olives ( a lot of those...) and pepperoni. Had to make sure we had the meat on there for protein, you know. We had all four food groups on that bad boy...and it only took nearly 25 minutes to bake because it was so huge. It would take two of us to lift it to get it in the oven then, we would sit back and wait. in the meantime, we would play a game of Trivial Pursuit to keep us occupied. *DING* Pizza's done!! Do you smell something? Something...burning? NOT THE PIZZA!! Quick, throw open the oven, reach in grab the pizza, burn your hand before you remember to get an oven mitt, turn off oven because...DUH!, grab oven mitt while Lisa fans the smoke out of your face, grab the pizza pan quickly and throw it on the counter, throw baking soda on the burning cheese at the bottom of the oven to squelch the flames, run to the smoke alarm and rip the batteries out of it to shut it up, throw open the front door to get the smoke out of the house, remember that you burned the hell out of your hand, run to the faucet and put it under cold water to prevent blistering, ask Lisa about the welfare of the pizza. "Pizza's fine, oven is not.." Wait 10 minutes for the pizza to cool enough so you can cut it with a pizza cutter, pick up a slice and watch all the good stuff slide off and land with a plop on your lap, run screaming to the bathroom to jump into a cold shower fully clothed because you are burning a hole into your upper thigh, peel your wet cheesy jeans off and wrap a towel around your waist while asking where the burn ointment is, locate said burn ointment and slather it on thickly to injured area, find your pair of sweatpants that you were going to wear to bed and put those on so they don't rub against your injured thigh, go back to kitchen that is nearly smoke-free, cautiously have a seat at the table while smiling weakly to your best friend. "How's that pizza?" "Pretty good. How's yours?" Smartass...

Conniption Fit

"Your father is going to have a conniption when he sees this!" I heard this a LOT growing up and just recently found out just exactly what a "conniption fit" actually was. Mainly because, I was the one having the conniption fit. This was pointed out to me by my 8-year-old son after I told him repeatedly to pick up the pieces of cardboard box that he had strewn about the living room. He was cutting apart a box to make a pair of "wings" for God knows what, and had failed to clean up after himself. So, after telling him more firmly each time to "Clean up this MESS!", I finally lost it. I stormed into the living room and started picking up everything and throwing it into the garbage can. Cardboard, pieces of duct tape, entire rolls of duct tape, scissors, movies, pillows, cats, small children, couches...it all went into the garbage. The entire time I am yelling nonsensical phrases like, "I have had enough...crap.." and "how many times..." and my personal favourite, "shmiggermiggermahger." Now, I really have no idea what that last word/phrase was supposed to be, I was just so incensed about my request being ignored that I apparently started speaking in tongues. My 14 year-old daughter burst out laughing, "What the heck does that mean?!" she said laughing at me until tears rolled down her cheeks. I don't think she understood the threat of death at this point I was so furious, but seeing her laughing at my angry outburst made me stop and take a look from their point of view. A middle-aged woman stomping around the living room, hair flying, eyes shooting fire, arms flailing and throwing stuff in a garbage bag al the while muttering and yelling to no one in particular. At first I was astounded that they weren't terrified of the Wrath of Mom, but stepping back, I realized how ridiculous I must have looked. Less threatening than the Hulk and more bordering on angry/insane clown. "Don't laugh at me! I am really ticked off!" I tried the threatening voice but it came out more like a hysterical scream. That, of course, sent my daughter into more gales of laughter. At this point, I turn to glare angrily at my son, who turned twinkling big brown eyes to me and said, "Geez Mom, don't have a conniption." Deflated...rant over...