Sometimes things just get old. For instance, in college I ate so much cheap pizza that I rarely touch anything from Papa John’s. Nothing against the place, I just burned-out on it. As a money saver and to cater to our individual tastes, we now make our own pizza at home. It’s not the best in the world, but I pile it high with meats on my side and olives on Butterfly’s. As much as Ladybug and Butterfly enjoy the stuff…it’s getting old, too.

Last night we got a refresher course in how pizza is supposed to be done. When I got home we headed off to Ingleside Village Pizza. We ordered a slice of olive pizza for Butterfly, a slice of “Veggie” for Kelley, and two slices of “Meat” for Ladybug and I to share.

We took our seats to wait for the pizza to be freshly made per our request. Butterfly occupied herself the entire time (probably about 15 minutes) with the ball-o-dough that is supplied for children to play with. Ladybug preferred to dance to the tunes spilling from the jukebox, then walk around on the checkered floor, and finally settle down to play with a straw and a cup top.

The pizza arrived at the table fresh from the oven, heaping with cheese and toppings. The quality was apparent even in the pizza’s appearance. I gotta be honest, I didn’t try Butterfly’s olive pizza and I didn’t even look at the “Veggie” junk that my wife was consuming. Ladybug and I devoured our two slices with the Ladybug giving the occasional nod-of-approval or a request for more “peee-tah”. $13 for a complete meal that left us all stuffed wasn’t bad at all.

MMMmmmmmmmm

It’s amazing how we can become so saturated on our home-brewed things that we simply lose our taste for those items all together. Then, we get a taste of the real thing and instantly, we remember what makes it so good. There’s a very valuable lesson in there, but I’ll let you figure it out for yourself. After all, I’m the shallow one here.