Here's a story.

Look! I managed to cut all of the snow out of this photo. We can pretend spring is here, even though there's another snow storm scheduled for tomorrow and Friday.

Whatever, I'm over it. Do what you want, Mother Nature!! You're dead to me.

Just kidding! Love you so much, you're sweet, send more spring pleeeeaaaaseee

So guess what. On Saturday I lost a pizza. A huge take-n-bake supreme pizza from Aldi. Huge! Delicious. And it was sad, sad! 

Here's how it went. The toddler and I were headed to Aldi for some canned tomatoes, and I spotted some hip looking teenagers walking out with one of those awesome looking pizzas. "What a great idea for lunch, Paisley!" I said, clearly influenced by their carefree pizza plans. I mean, I probably said that, as I was wrestling her stiff toddler legs into the cart.

A few minutes later we made our way back to the parking lot with a can of diced tomatoes and a huge pizza, which I put on top of the car so I could strap Paisley into her car seat. 

I thought to myself, "Don't forget the pizza on the top of your car."

"OK self!" I chuckled.

Then we drove home.

As I pulled into the garage a couple minutes later I realized that the pizza was not in my front seat, and that I had indeed forgotten it on top of my car mere seconds after reminding myself not to.

And I sat there in disbelief.

Then I got out and looked on top of the car. There was no pizza there.

"Mama?" Paisley called from the back seat.

I didn't answer her as I realized what had happened, and as I asked myself the question: am I the type of person who will drive up and down the streets looking for a lost pizza, or am I the kind to slink silently into my house and never breathe a word of this event to anyone?

Obviously I decided that I was the first type of person, and announced to Paisley that we were going to keep driving for a little bit. Luckily she was fine with that. Not that she had any say in the matter. Pizza is pizza! So we started slowly retracing our ride home from Aldi. Luckily we had taken the back roads and not the highway. I tensely scanned the road, longing for delicious melted cheese and raised crust to stuff in my mouth. 

And then, I saw the box! Quickly I pulled over and leaped out of the car, only to realize something was dreadfully wrong. The cardboard box was indeed there in the middle of the street, but the pizza, which had been wrapped in plastic, was gone.

Gone!

"Wait, what?" I mumbled to myself. Maybe it had flown out of the box into some unsuspecting yard. I drove up and down the street a couple of times, searching with pleading eyes, but it was to no avail.

Someone had come across a pizza in the middle of the street and they had asked themselves the question: am I the type of person who will take a random supreme pizza out of it's box from the road and feed it to my family? 

And obviously the answer to that question was a quick yes. I say quick because it couldn't have been more than two minutes that that pizza sat there. We live very close to Aldi. 

Not that I can blame them. Those pizza snatchers. That was a good pizza.

I'M ASSUMING.

Obviously after my forgetfulness I did NOT deserve to go back to Aldi and spend ANOTHER six dollars on a huge supreme delicious cheesy pizza. And so we drove home as I swallowed the lump in my throat, reminding myself that it was ridiculous to almost cry at the thought of having the leftover casserole in our fridge for lunch. After all, the hubs didn't even know my brilliant Aldi-pizza-for-lunch plan and so he would never know the difference if I just handed him some re-heated hot dish without a word on the subject.

But, as I'm an over-sharer in every sense of the word, I disclosed every single detail of the entire fiasco to him when the baby girl and I got home. 

As I just did in this post.

He looked a little disappointed. 

BUT he ate the hot dish without complaint like the good, kind husband that he is.

What a champ.

The end!