On Christmas Eve day our home was a buzzing hive of activity. I was decorating, baking, cleaning, wrapping, singing, calling, facebooking, and in a wonderful frame of mind.
I love Christmas.
We planned on attending the 6 p.m. candlelight service at church. Around 4:00 I surveyed the lack of available space on my kitchen counters due to dozens and dozens of cookies and confections in the process of being made, cooling, or being stacked on plates and trays. The dishwasher was running and there was still a substantial mound of bowls, utensils, measuring cups and cookware to be washed.
"Steve? Would you mind going to town to grab a pizza for dinner? If you don't want to, I can do it myself, no problem."
"Do I have to order it?" asks The Hubster.
"Nope, already did it," I respond. "They are a bit backed up so it won't be ready for about twenty minutes."
I went back to singing my way through a winter wonderland and sliding a fresh batch of cookies off a baking sheet.
My hubby came back with the pizza and slid it into the bottom oven for me. He was amazingly pleasant. A family sized double crust stuffed combo pizza has that effect on him.
"Sweetie, the timer for the pizza is set. I need to jump in the shower, so can you take out the pizza when the timer goes off? Be sure to tell Kidlet when it's time to eat, and leave the dogs in the basement. Thanks!"
We have a German Shorthair who believes his sole purpose in life is to remove all edible morsels from horizontal surfaces. Kitchen counters, tables, plates on laps. He is super stealth in his missions. All you hear is the click of his toe nails hitting the floor after filching food.
Clean and dressed for church, I also grab a slice. The Hubster and Kidlet seem to be done with theirs, so I ask Hubster to wrap up the remaining pizza and pop it in the fridge.
Time lapse.
Christmas morning. I am the first one up. Not unusual. It's only 4 a.m.
I put on a pot of coffee. I turn on my ovens to begin preparations for my Christmas day feast. I open the fridge to grab a slice of pizza for my early morning breakfast. I honestly wasn't sure that there would be any left as it often will disappear mysteriously overnight. Such is our life with a fifteen year old male in the household.
Whoopie! I'm in luck. Pizza is there.
But wait! There's a huge wad of plastic wrap on top with a four inch gap in the middle. And yes, the entire top of the pizza is all dried out. The Hubster refuses to use my Saran Wrap. He used that disgusting Saran Scrunch again. The Scrunch that never stays shut.
lol - Merry Christmas!
I love Christmas.
We planned on attending the 6 p.m. candlelight service at church. Around 4:00 I surveyed the lack of available space on my kitchen counters due to dozens and dozens of cookies and confections in the process of being made, cooling, or being stacked on plates and trays. The dishwasher was running and there was still a substantial mound of bowls, utensils, measuring cups and cookware to be washed.
"Do I have to order it?" asks The Hubster.
"Nope, already did it," I respond. "They are a bit backed up so it won't be ready for about twenty minutes."
I went back to singing my way through a winter wonderland and sliding a fresh batch of cookies off a baking sheet.
My hubby came back with the pizza and slid it into the bottom oven for me. He was amazingly pleasant. A family sized double crust stuffed combo pizza has that effect on him.
"Sweetie, the timer for the pizza is set. I need to jump in the shower, so can you take out the pizza when the timer goes off? Be sure to tell Kidlet when it's time to eat, and leave the dogs in the basement. Thanks!"
We have a German Shorthair who believes his sole purpose in life is to remove all edible morsels from horizontal surfaces. Kitchen counters, tables, plates on laps. He is super stealth in his missions. All you hear is the click of his toe nails hitting the floor after filching food.
Clean and dressed for church, I also grab a slice. The Hubster and Kidlet seem to be done with theirs, so I ask Hubster to wrap up the remaining pizza and pop it in the fridge.
Time lapse.
Christmas morning. I am the first one up. Not unusual. It's only 4 a.m.
I put on a pot of coffee. I turn on my ovens to begin preparations for my Christmas day feast. I open the fridge to grab a slice of pizza for my early morning breakfast. I honestly wasn't sure that there would be any left as it often will disappear mysteriously overnight. Such is our life with a fifteen year old male in the household.
Whoopie! I'm in luck. Pizza is there.
But wait! There's a huge wad of plastic wrap on top with a four inch gap in the middle. And yes, the entire top of the pizza is all dried out. The Hubster refuses to use my Saran Wrap. He used that disgusting Saran Scrunch again. The Scrunch that never stays shut.
lol - Merry Christmas!
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