Oftentimes, food holds traditions for us, memories of childhood or a special time. Write about a food that you love, miss, make, desire, or enjoy sharing. Pizza Night, Justin D
It’s Friday night and Mom just picked us up from the babysitter’s house. We pile in the car, me and my two brothers. My brothers ask Mom, what’s for dinner, but I know it’s pay day. Mom works all week and usually cooks us a great meal when we get home. But, on Friday’s it’s pizza day. As we pull up to the bustling old-world Italian New York Pizza Shop, my mouth begins to water. The smell is amazing, and we can hardly contain ourselves. Tomato sauce, bread baking, spices like oregano, garlic, and basil drift from the pizzeria into the open car window. A group of people stand on a line that stretches out the door, and here comes Mom. She is carrying a heavenly white box that reads Brother’s Pizzeria. We all volunteer to hold the box, thinking who ever carries it in the house has first dibs on the first slice. I’m the oldest, so she gives it to me, with glee and delight I hold the warm box with a big smile. I look at my Mom with gratitude and respect. Thanks for pizza night Mom.
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