🍕🤮🤣🤪🔪

Last night Phoebe and I went to the next door (front porch) for a socially distant drink after putting the kids down. Well, mostly down. Kyle was in bed and Ella was in her bed. As the eldest, Ella was ‘babysitting’. The weekend had been long since it was once again Groundhog Day… again. We were looking forward to being adults without children — just for a little bit. Emphasis on little bit. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

For dinner Phoebe made frozen pizza for the kids, and for us she’d made meat loaf and mashed potatoes. (Yes, the kids could have had meat loaf and potatoes, too, but that’s not yet their jam.) Accordingly, we gave the kids the kitchen while we took the dining room. Our dining room has ancient pocket doors that we will carefully close on special occasions. Tonight wasn’t special other than the meat loaf… which was pretty damn special, so we closed the doors.

The thing about the doors meant we weren’t aware of all the pizza dispatched by Ella. Although cleaning up we noted there was none left over. And before we left, Ella did mention she was feeling… full.

Anyhoo, we went next door. Roughly 20 min into conversation about people who wear masks under their noses, the joy of curbside pickup at Target, and the advantages of eating pizza al fresco, Phoebe got a call on her phone.

Phoebe
Hi, sweetie. What? You did? Just now? I’ll be right there.

Steve
🤔