my mother's coming to town this weekend with some of her girlfriends.
(fyi: we're entering a season of me spending a lot 'o time with me mum so all apologies if it's all debo, all the time for awhile- she's just so good for stories.)
they're not even here and already... DRAMEDY!
my mother is, according to my dad, "agonizing about The Pizza."
please note: "agonizing" was the precise word he used. (hyperbole is a family trait.)
i should explain.
if you've ever had the good fortune to come to chicago and we've spent any time together, you know about The Pizza. you likely dream about The Pizza. because The Pizza is THE PIZZA OF YOUR LIFE and you know that and savor it accordingly whenever you've the chance.
my mother loves The Pizza. she was there when we first discovered The Pizza and i think, in large part, she is ok with me being in chicago because she knows that whatever may befall me, i am in close proximity to The Pizza and will, therefore, ultimately be ok. The Pizza's terribly important to us as a family and it's also really damn good.
so imagine my mother's consternation then that one of her girlfriends keeps harping on about this uh-mazing pizza place where they serve the pizza to you up-side-down.
this place is not famous for its pizza. it's famous only for having the audacity to serve normal, non-chicago pizza up-side-down.
my mother- as she is from our family and we are a family built upon the bedrock of the belief that we know how to (a) eat and (b) have fun better than anyone else- thinks that this is the worst.idea.ever. she doesn't want to waste her calories eating pizza that is in no way commendable outside of the fact that some fool has flipped it over.
but, because she is my mother, she can't tell this to anyone outside our family. because that would be rude. and she doesn't want to create problems. AND her girlfriend is really psyched about eating some pizza up-side-down.
instead, she's crafting an alternative way of getting precisely what she wants. and, because we eatons taking nothing more seriously than the attainment of food, i am aiding and abetting her, pleading the need for mother/daughter time solely as a means of getting her to The Pizza. if successful, this just might win me "daughter of the year."