Yesterday, I was scheduled to sit at the desk in the museum, so I rode to work with my husband. When he was late leaving his office due to a telephone conference, I, of course, had to wait for him, which isn’t usually a problem. But last night I had to attend practice for our Christmas program.
So, our answer to the dilemma of cooking and eating dinner in the fifteen minutes I would have at home was to grab a pizza from a convenience store between work and home.
Apparently, that was the incorrect answer.
Because, while waiting in line to pick up the pizza, we heard the following discussion from the two in the kitchen:
“They ordered a large sausage and pepperoni.”
“The pepperoni pizzas are there. The sausage pizzas should be finished in a moment.”
“No, they wanted sausage and pepperoni on the same pizza.”
“On the same pizza? Maybe the sausage is hiding under the pepperoni.”
Two heads bent over a large pizza, as they sliced through the cheese in the hopes of discovering disguised sausage.
“I remember making sausage and pepperoni.”
Finally, the two had to concede that they evidently had no large pizza with both sausage and pepperoni to give us, but they would immediately start one. And they offered us the bill so we could go ahead and pay and lessen our extended wait by a few minutes, anyway.
But as we were standing at the cash register, from the kitchen we heard, “So . . . sausage and pepperoni? One sausage, one pepperoni? Oh, on the same pizza?”
Although my husband’s eyes bugged out a little, he waited until we were back in the car to burst into laughter.
So simple. And yet, apparently, so complicated.
Just like life.
Well, my life anyway.
And that’s why I laugh.