stupid pickles

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Boys are awake. I was sitting next to my youngest in living room. We hear his big brother shout from the kitchen, “Stupid pickles!” Pause and then ask what happened, not sure if he was in the pantry or fridge. TEENAGER replies he was trying to get pizza for breakfast and the box was “perched precariously.” The jar fell on his foot. The pickles are OK. So is he. Pizza is being eaten. Here I figured he’d go for leftover cake.

May 24, 2014
Saturday morning just a little after 7am

I’m sorting Art Club’s artwork into portfolios to give them at our last hurrah lunchtime pizza party today. I’m as excited as they are that we get to be together one last time this school year. We’ve had fun AND they made some cool art. Win win!

May 14, 2013

Home for the night.
Wearin’ fuzzy slippers.
Cookin’ frozen pizza for two middle school boys.
(My oldest son and his friend from next door.)
They are playin’ video games in the basement.
My youngest son is right there with them.
Always.
Home.

October 5, 2012
NOTE: This is my 600th Tumblr post. Something had to be. Figured it might as well be about family, food and home. Those three things are all tangled up together – at least for me.