It was eight-thirty in the evening and I was sitting on the couch, the remote in my hand aimed at the television, when my son Alex popped his head around the corner.
“I’m putting a pizza in the oven. Do you want some?” He asked.
I looked over at him. “No. Not right now.” I sighed.
Alex looked confused. “What’s that suppose to mean?”
I put the remote on the coffee table and got up to follow him into the kitchen.
“I mean I’m not hungry right now.” I could see the pizza was already on the pan on top of the stove while he was waiting for the oven to preheat.
Alex picked up the bottle of olive oil and did a light drizzle over the pizza. He grabbed the container of Italian seasonings and shook some on top along with some red pepper flakes.
“Oh, man.” I sighed again. “You’re killing me here!”
“So, you do want some?” The oven beeped that it had reached the correct temperature and Alex slid the pizza in and closed the oven door. He went over to the cabinet to get some plates. “Dad and I are having some.” He grabbed a third plate. “I take it you want some, too?”
“No, I don’t need a second dinner.” I tried to reason with myself. “I’m not even hungry.” I watched as he started to put the third plate away. “But…” I relented. “I know once I start smelling it, as it heats up, I’m going to want a piece.”
Alex looked over at me and put the third plate on the counter. “So the answer is yes?”
“I just want you to know that me eating a piece of pizza, when I’m not even hungry is going to be all your fault!”
Alex started to laugh. “Your will power is that weak?”
I nodded my head. “It is when it comes to pizza.”
Alex set the timer on his watch. “I’m setting my alarm for twenty minutes.”
“Okay.” I pointed over my shoulder towards the living room. “I’ll be waiting on the couch being annoyed with myself for not being able to say no.”
Alex shook his head and was still laughing as he headed to his room. “Don’t blame me.” He called over his shoulder.
“Oh, I am!” I headed for the living room. “Why can’t your second dinner be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Or just heat up some leftovers from dinner.” I called to him. “I wouldn’t be interested in either of those.”
“I already had that dinner.” He called back. “And I’m going to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich later for my third dinner.”
“Third dinner.” I said under my breath as I flopped back down on the couch and reached for the remote. “How’s it even possible?”
My husband Steven was walking through the room when he saw the look on my face and stopped.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“No!” I said as I looked over at him. “You two are making me eat pizza at eight-thirty at night!”
“We’re making you?” Steven started to laugh.
“No one can smell pizza cooking and refuse a piece!” I looked over at him and shook my head. “Absolutely no one.”
Steven nodded his head. “I have to agree with you on that one.”
“Exactly!” I put my feet up on the coffee table and leaned back against the cushions. “Hey, Alex!” I called. “How much longer until the pizza is ready?”
Slice of Life 