Pizza Night

The past couple of Tuesday nights, The Man has gone out for pizza with his man-friends. And not just to any pizza, but like some of the best pizza he’s ever had (and he’s from a place where he should know). I remember once eating pizza pre-celiac diagnosis and my lips swelling up and blistering like I’d just kissed a sticker bush. So I’m jealous in a detached, philosophical way, but I’ve also made my peace with it. No more pizza means no more blister-lips, so I’m all good with that.

Plus, I’ve got this instead, which The Man buys for me as a consolation gift:

One of my favorite meals

One of my favorite meals

We really do love The Man. He deserves his pizza.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s