By the time Friday rolls around, Wonder Woman and I are basically stumbling across the finish line. Not that the weekend is much different, but we still like to maintain the illusion of that “T.G.I.F.” hysteria that seemed so much more significant when it meant we could drink like sailors and stay in bed the following morning until whatever time we pleased.
Dear god, was there really a time in our lives when we would lounge around in bed on a Saturday morning—and Sunday!—and utter such now-unfathomable things as, “What do you want to do today?” “I don’t know, honey; what do you want to do today?” And never was the answer, “I want to get up while it’s still dark out and watch ‘Fetch with Ruff Ruffman’ and ‘Caillou’ with my two television-addicted children, and then spend the day trying to avert and/or defuse one crisis after another until we eventually strap them down in their beds for the night so we can catch a few all-too-brief hours of sleep before it starts all over again.”
Oh, wait, this is supposed to be about pizza.
So anyway, Friday night is pizza night. And because we have not yet reached the tax bracket we hope to one day occupy, we usually dine on the frozen variety … which would be an absolute sin to a pizza-lover like myself, except that, after years of occasionally trying out this brand of frozen pie, and that brand of frozen pie, we found one that is actually quite delicious and truly pizza-like: Freschetta Brick Oven. We get the “5 Italian Cheese” one, and top it with some red bell-pepper slices. Yum.
And, no, this is not a product-placement ad; I only wish they were paying me to say this, in which case I would happily kiss their ass from here to next week—but the truth is, I’m merely trying to provide my faithful readers with a tasty tip. Bon appetit.