We ordered pizza. It was my craving. He didn't necessarily want pizza, but lovingly gave in because he knows I love it...and I wouldn't have stopped nagging until I had it! Over some random George Clooney movie and cranberry gingerale we had pizza. Greasy, cheesy pepperoni pizza. It was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that there were only two pieces left over. They went into the fridge and we went to bed.
I awoke thinking about pizza, but knowing that the pizza was probably boxed up and at Jay's office for lunch. Good for him...taking his lunch to work. I got out of bed, played with Scarlett and pulled out a box of cereal. I opened the fridge for the milk and the pizza box was still there. Hmm...two pieces of pizza, glorious pizza, waiting for me. You see, Jay knows just how much I
love pizza for breakfast. And while I'm sure he would have rather had that for lunch than the sandwich he made himself, he knows just how much I love pizza for breakfast.
After an excited squeal, the pizza quickly made its way from plate to microwave to my belly. I was one satisfied wife...who has one awesome husband. You see, its so easy to get caught up in the everyday grind and forget about the small things that matter. And that day, the pizza for breakfast mattered. Ah, the small things that are suddenly so large...
