Pizza Tuesdays are great,

garlic, mozzarella, salted dough (with sugar, too). I love

eating pizza next to Neal, mine with pepperoni,

his with bacon.

If one of our orders isn’t right

I’ll eat the order I was expecting (feeling bad for Neal)

or whatever is in front of me.

On those occurrences I might also ask for a slice of Neal’s

since he doesn’t seem to mind.

The day after Pizza Tuesday

is Weftover Wednesday.

On Weftover Wednesdays I microwave uneaten pizza from Pizza Tuesday.

Then, after I’ve eaten, take walks. Unfortunately

Neal doesn’t like to take walks, nor does he like to eat beside me

on Weftover Wednesdays.

The rest of the week I make fun things up, like Fricassee Friday,

Sausage Saturday, or Cobb Salad Sunday.

But these are just poor substitutes

for Pizza Tuesday.

Pizza Tuesdays

bring me more joy than they reasonably should.

I worry the day will come when I can’t afford them anymore

or I have to avoid pizza for medical reasons

or, worst of all,

Neal will be gone.