Bring Home Pizza
This morning, when T was getting ready for work, he told me about the stressful meetings that were on his schedule for today and how he needed the kitchen table tonight because he had a meeting in Australia.
I said that wasn’t a problem because Little Girl and I will be at a thing at her school tonight. Then I added that I had a fun-filled day of sealing grout and installing bathroom mirrors.
“Bring home pizza,” I said as he was leaving.
He stopped and turned and looked at me. “Is that like ‘Come Home With Your Shield Or On It?'” he asked.
We both laughed and I said no, but it would be helpful.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I think I lied.
Update: I was wrong, he is meeting the Australians via his office, not our kitchen. I’m on my own. Drat. Today has not been a good day.