Ordering pizza at my house is a nightmare. Is it at yours? This is what happens at our house weekly.
Husband: Let's order pizza!
Katie: Gross. (I ate it every day, every meal, throughout my entire first pregnancy and have since been able to only eat it about once a month.
Chicken Big: Only if it's thin cheese.
Katie: Okay. I'll eat thin cheese IF it's from Pizza Hut.
Chicken Big: No. I want Dominos.
Husband: Yeah, Dominos. But, I want regular crust with pepperoni, sausage and mushrooms.
Katie: So if we go to Dominos, we'll get Daddy one like that and the girls can get a thin cheese.
Chicken Little: NO. I want THICK cheese. With cheese filled crust.
Katie: Wait. (Thinking hubby can get half of his and Chicken Little can get the other like she wants) Chicken Little? Can you eat regular crust with cheese?
Chick Little: If it's stuffed. Or a P zone from Pizza Hut.
Chick Big: Ooo! Can we get cheesy bread too?
Katie: getting frazzled and freaking out. No! No, cheesy bread
Chick Big: Why? It's free?
Katie: (has no idea what to do) I want thin cheese with green peppers perhaps? Or jalapeno peppers? And it must come from Pizza Hut.
Chicken Big: Mom, if you get that, our pizza will be disgusting.
Chicken Little: I thought we were getting Dominoes?
I have literally transcribed this conversation word for word until Chicken Little freaked out and gave a tirade as to why her flavor should be allowed. Apparently she has been forced to eat pizza at every friend's house she has visited the entire winter and now wants to be able to choose what she really wants. Now I must quit typing and figure out what to order. I'll let you know.
Oh, and stay tuned for sf's Barbie saga on Monday. I've been told that a little wooden man has entered into the story . . .