I called my mom this morning because I had a question that she may or may not have the answer to. She didn't. But I asked anyways. I have been on dog doodie with my mom and dad for the last 10 days. Not an easy feat with these dogs and I'll explain more later. But the other night, I bought myself a pizza from my favorite shop to eat over 2 days. It's 4 pieces of crunchy crust and melty cheese and it only costs a little over seven dollars. So I can feed myself for 2 days at $3.50 a night. Not a bad budget wise decision, in my book. I put the last two pieces on the bottom shelf of my sister's refrigerator and seeing as no one is around, I thought it was safe. I should have known better. My dad has been going over to my sister's to let her dogs out during the afternoon and I had noticed that there was a beer stash in the fridge that was dwindling. I only opened the fridge to make sure that there was no sumthin, sumthin, stankin up the joint. So I noticed the beer stash. That's what women/mom's do. Notice stuff. I think it's in our genetic makeup. Just like opening up said fridge and eating one of the slices of pizza out of the box that "magically" appeared, is in a man/dad's genetic makeup. Imagine my surprise when I latched onto that pizza box, already drooling and waiting to shove it in the oven (do not re-heat this pizza in the microwave-you will be appalled!!) and seeing only one little tiny itty bitty piece left in the box. I even think there was some pepperoni missing off it!! So, I gave my heavy sigh because this is not the first time that this has happened to me and went home to reheat my PIECE of PIZZA. I did the adult thing and called my mommy the next day. I squealed on my daddy. I told her what he did!! He ATE my pizza!!! And my mom did what she is supposed to do. She yelled at Francis. All of our lives, we thought that my mother came with a swivel on head. When she would get mad at our father, her head would spin on her shoulders. We thought that she was absolutely the most horrible woman on the planet. We always looked at our innocent father as "Saint Francis". We couldn't understand why my mother was always calling him "Jesus, Francis!" I understand now. While it may appear that my father is "Saint Francis", the words "Jesus, Francis" fit just fine too. And for a reference point, when the words Jesus, Francis come out, that's when the head spinning happens. I've seen it. It happened to me when I looked into the almost empty coccoon of a pizza box that Saint Francis/Jesus Francis desecrated. And Mom? Sorry. I get it now. It took a while but, I get it.