Today was an Inservice day, so no school for the kids. When I was in school, they were called PD Days - Professional Development Days, and teachers used them to take courses, attend lectures, develop their profession (at least as far as I knew.) Later, they became Professional Activities Days, days to polish up the activites of their profession, I guess. Now, here anyway, they're called Inservice, and I don't have a clue what that means. Technically, this day is for Parent Teacher Conferences. Seems to me that my, and most of my friends' parents worked during the day - teacher conferences were at night. The last day off the kids had, a few weeks ago, was an NEA Day - National Educators Association - and so, as mandated in contracts by their union a day to attend union sponsored events. Every teacher I know took the opportunity to either rake their leaves or put in a few extra hours at their second job. But I digress...
The kids were home today. Looking for a lunch that would keep them quiet and happy and out of my hair for a while, I grabbed a frozen pizza at the store. I don't buy frozen pizzas as often as I used to, and we almost never get take-out (delivery's not an option here most of the time.) I do, however, remember the very first time I ever had frozen pizza. Can you imagine? My kids were still babies the first time they gnawed a reheated crust. I was in (gasp) high school, and the pizzas were the alternative option to the hot lunch. I rarely had hot lunch, most days I had an orange (eating disorder, we won't go there today.) But for whatever reason, one day I decided to blow the calorie and socked-away babysitting money budgets, and have a frozen pizza.
What we had were small, individual pizzas, about the size of a piece of bread. Pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms; like the picture, just smaller. It was, surprisingly, good. I remember eating it thinking that although it was small, it most definitely broke the 100 calorie rule (you could "splurge" as long as it wasn't more than 100 calories) and as a result, that pleasure was not often repeated.
Funny how little things stick with you, huh? Give me a pizza with skimpy cheese, pepperoni, green peppers and mushrooms on a thin cardboard crust, and it all comes flying back. Tomorrow I'll make REAL pizza for dinner. Homemade crust, rich sauce, abundant cheese. An aroma to die for, a taste that'll clean the pan in no time. And for old times sake, pepperoni, green peppers, and mushrooms.