Otherwise Entitled: How Much Pizza Can I Eat in a Week?

For Sasha who misses me when I don't blog
For Andrew for whom I tried to keep it short
For Doug and Edie who are always up for a good time
For Donna who has freed me from the Tyrany of the Matched Sock
For Matthew who knows how to show this girl a good time


Last Saturday night, Mr. Floyd and I went out on a date. A real date...you know, where we're gone for more than an hour? That's right. And in a vehicle that had no car seats in it. Ahhhh...

Some of the Super Friends generously provided both the babysitting for our unruly brood, and the car-seat-less vehicle that transported us sleekly down to Indianapolis. It was a most amazing time. One of the perks? A GPS in the car, so there was no need for hastily scribbled directions or last minute panicking as we try to figure out why the parking lot wasn't included in those directions.

Our first stop finished up a sort of pizza tour that took place last week. I'll pause this oh-so-exciting date story to give a brief rundown:

1) Thursday, lunch-- Gas Station Pizza. From Russiaville. Some of the best pizza available in the Kokomo area. Edie never fails me.

2) Thursday, dinner-- A surprise visit to Pizza Hut. Matt's mom called mid afternoon with a plea to have us accompany her here to celebrate a dear friend's 70th birthday. Usually Matt hates Pizza Hut. This was no exception. We made it through, although I was beginning to question my often quoted: "I could eat pizza EVERY day 'cause I love it so much!"

3) Friday, lunch--My mom takes the kids and me to Harvey Hinklemeyers and I feel a bit green as I hear two of my children order pizza. Watching them eat it is no small feat either.

4) Saturday, lunch--The Menfolk are re-roofing my garage. We have lots of people at my house. Lots of kids. Guess what we eat? Oh well, at least it was Papa Johns, but eating it was real test, because I knew we were trying out a new pizza joint in Indy for our date that night.

5) Saturday night--Bazbeaux in downtown Indianapolis. We were definitely some of the least cool people there. The girl in the bathroom had a sprawling tattoo on her chest and one of the waiters had a handlebar mustache. The insanely-cheerful black guy who sat us told us we were being placed downstairs in the "TroubleMaker's Section" where the wine cellar was located. We actually got to sit at a table made for 2 people.

But the pizza! Oh, the pizza! I picked the Garden Pizza, which is really out of character for me, but wait til you hear what was on it: ricotta cheese, artichoke hearts, avocados, fresh spinach, red onion, and black olives. Be still, my heart. I love avocados and artichokes with a passion and spinach aint too bad either. When it arrived, the creamy blend of the ricotta cheese and the baked avocado slices was enough to render all my other senses useless. It was all I could do to sit there and help Matt eat the entire pizza. That's right. I'm not ashamed. If you'd been there, you wouldn't be ashamed either.

So back to the date. After we'd eaten until we were drunk on pizza, we waddled back to the Date Car and drove down Delaware (ha HA! built in alliteration) to the Benjamin Harris Home where we took part (you know, in an audience, fill-in-the-cryptogram on the program kinda way) in a walking play called Ghost Tales of Indiana. It was fun for me, who likes theatre and doesn't mind a touch (all right, a dollop) of corniness. It was fun for Matt, who was the only one who actually solved the cryptogram. I don't think that they expected anyone to actually solve it in the time provided, as was made clear by the fact that our hostess seemed more than a little crabby when I read it out loud for Matt instead of letting her do it. This made Matt very happy. I know, and we call ourselves Christians.

When we arrived home, no one was screaming, flailing, fighting, or bemoaning. We'd had more than two hours in the car alone, a pizza that made us hate all other pizzas, and a fun time annoying corny hostesses. Now that's what I call a date.