Monday night pizza

 One of the hassles of my life is figuring out what's for dinner.  For years we used to have pizza every Friday.  It felt celebratory.

We kind of got away from that habit but I decided to reinstate it, except pizza every Monday.  I think everyone needs pizza more on Monday than Friday.  Friday already has its own thing going on.  Monday needs some joy.

Monday night Adam and I assembled pizzas and he put one on the grill out on the deck to cook.  It didn't go that well.  I don't think our grill is heating evenly.  He brought it inside to finish up in the oven.

We readied the second pizza and Adam started to take it outside but the door to the deck was completely jammed.  It would not budge.  Mark came with tools at the ready, prepared to disassemble the whole thing.  Adam stopped him.  We didn't really have time for a disassembled door on top of the other evening things we had going on.

I said, "How important is the deck anyway?"

Adam said, "Well, the barbecue is on."

He went out the garage door and walked around and cooked the pizza.

Mark had a letter opener in one hand and a flathead screwdriver in the other and tried his best to dislodge the stubborn door.  He grabbed my debit card and said, "I've always wanted to try this."

Nothing worked.

Adam brought the pizza in (through the garage) and it was kind of burned on the bottom (because the grill just isn't cooking evenly).  He said, "I don't know what's wrong.  I used to be able to make pizza."

He still can.  The pizza was good and we ate it.

Adam said, "Next Monday we're going to MOD."

Which still works.  Because Monday night is for pizza.