Generations of Pizza

Two of my favorite males in the world, Dad and Oliver. 

My dad has been coming over on Wednesdays to play with Oliver. The Man and I have been watching him to give his mom and dad a bit of a break. I pick him up early in the morning and he stays all day with us, ending our visit after dinner when his mom comes to pick him up. We play all day long. We sit on the back porch and listen to the birds and watch the "tweet-tweets" eat bugs and worms in the grass. We listen to traffic go by. The big trucks and motorcycles are especially interesting and draw a big response. We change scenery and sit on the front porch so we can see up the road in both directions. People jogging by or walking usually wave to us and say hello. Trucks will honk or wave hello. It's a very friendly place.

We blow bubbles. Or at least some of us do. Others of us just like to pop bubbles. 

We play with Mega Bloks and cars and trains and poms poms in bottles. We eat lots of snacks and have a drink of milk or two. Maybe some water. We have lunch and a little dessert. Then we take a nap. And when we wake up, we start it all over again.

I'm exhausted. And I love every minute.

__________

So while little man is napping, my dad has been telling the Man and I stories from when he was young and the early days of his marriage to my mom. I love listening to his stories. They bring back all the people I love and miss the most - my Nana and Grampa, my aunt, my mom. 

Today he was telling us about Sunday afternoons and evenings. Grampa used to take my dad to the city high school football games on Sunday afternoons. If the game was home, they would take the bus to the high school field but if it was an away game, a couple of my Grampa's friends from the painters union would pick them up and give them a ride to the town they were playing in. Dad would squeeze into the back seat between Grampa and a friend and sit quietly during the ride.  After the game, they would stop at the only pizza place in the city to pick up dinner to bring home. There was only one place to get pizza and round pies didn't exist then. 

They sold the pizza by the piece, ten cents a slice, and there were no tables to eat at. You took your slices and went home. Dad said they would buy a dozen slices for the six of them but as the two older boys grew, they started buying 18 and then 24 slices. It was thick crust and cheese only. They didn't put toppings on pizza back then. He loved it. 

My grandparents never had a lot of money but they always found a way to buy small treats for their kids, and then as we came along, their grandkids. They weren't big things but they sure meant something to all of us. Great memories.

And those are priceless.

_________

We celebrated little man's dad's birthday tonight. We had cake and candles and cards and presents and singing.

And for dinner? Pizza.

It was a good night.