A little known fact about me is that I crave imaginary pizza (and spaghetti... and tacos... and chinese food... and actually all imaginary food). I love toy pizza. I always wish I could really eat it. Same with pizza on cartoons. I wish I could call up Pizza Hut and order a pizza and when it got here it would look just like it does in a cartoon like The Simpsons. And you know that scene in Conspiracy Theory where Mel Gibson sends a pizza to Julia Roberts and she brings it out to him and then he takes it from her and eats it in the car? Oh man. I love that scene. And it's not Mel. It's the imaginary pizza. How come pizza never looks like that in real life? On TV and in movies it is always in these huge slices and it's all droopy and... Oh man. (It's the same with Chinese food in make believe world. Like the Chinese food that they're always ordering on Seinfeld. It's always in those cool boxes and it comes with chopsticks and the noodles look so goooooood.) Maybe it's just because it's Saskatchewan take-out and not New York take-out.
Whatever it is I want their food and not mine. Or at least I did until tonight. We got pizza and it looked just like cartoon or toy pizza. Even Glen, knowing my previously unfulfilled longing, commented on it before I got the chance to. I think whoever cut it must have messed up cause it was in these giant pieces and I got extra sauce so it was all droopy, but not in that bad way that means it didn't get cooked enough. It was thin crust and the pepperoni was on top of the cheese so it looked just like it does on TV. I slapped a piece on Glen's plate and he looked at it and said, "This looks like cartoon pizza."
Sometimes marriage is boring because you know way too much about each other and sometimes it's fabulous because the other person gets it without you even having to explain.
Now I can cross "Eat Imaginary Pizza" off my list of things to do before I die. I wonder where I can get some imaginary spaghetti?