I now understand where Little Caesar’s got their ad campaign for PIZZA! PIZZA! Obviously one of the account execs at the advertising agency had a two year old.

After a long day yesterday that ended around 5:30, Brighton and I headed home. Instead of actually cooking dinner (God forbid) I opted to call in a Casey’s pizza so it would be ready by the time we got home. Brighton was tired (he woke up on the WRONG side of the bed yesterday morning), Mom was tired, Dad just left for PA and so we were on our own for the night.

Stupid things mom does #1 (create expectation):
In the car, on the way…I asked Brighton, “Do you want pizza?” Vigorously shaking his head ‘YES!’ “PIZZA PIZZA!!” He patiently waits for oh, 5 minutes, then promptly begins whining. I realize the magnitude of what I’ve done and attempt to divert his attention with his new favorite song by Paul McCartney, Dance Tonight

Stupid things mom does #2 (attempting to reason):
“We’ll be there in a little bit babe, they have to cook it then we have to pick it up, then we’ll go home, bring in the groceries, feed the doggies, then we can have pizza! How’s that sound?”


I think to myself ‘he can’t seriously expect me to pull a pizza out of my arse? Does he think I can snap my fingers and a pizza will appear? He’s so unreasonable!’ (duh, he’s 2…)


“OK babe! We’ll get pizza as soon as we get home!”

Shakes his head, yes. “Home…”PIZZA! PIZZA!! PIZZAAAAAAAAA!!!”

We reach Casey’s, the pizza isn’t quite done. We mill around, grab some vanilla ice cream, a paper and wait. Finally, mercifully, the pizza is ready. We pay, we get out (after much wrangling over a box of tic tacs – thanks Casey’s for putting them at eye level for a 2 year old)
Get back in the car, as I’m putting him in his seat, I see his face start to contort…“PIZZA! PIZZA!! PIZZA!!!”

I can feel my blood pressure rising and my head about ready to explode…”Yes babe, Pizza! We’ll be home in a sec! We’ll feed the puppies then we can have pizza!”


Stupid things mom does #3 (testing 2 year old’ patience):
We get home and I let Bright out of the car seat and grab ALL the groceries, my purse, the pizza and the paper and hope he can make it in the house on his own (which he does). Of course the minute I open the door, the dogs are at the ready and bolt. They haven’t gone potty since 9:00 AM, it’s now almost 6:15 PM. I put the pizza on the desk, set the groceries on the floor (Brighton quickly grabs the ice cream and drags it down the hallway, through the kitchen and deposits it in the living room) and let the dogs out. As I come back in I hear, “PIZZA! PIZZA!! PIZZA!!!” Brighton is now wailing with tears streaming down his face…

“You’re gonna have to wait a sec, I have to feed the puppies. Want to feed Feebee for Mom?” <~~diversion attempt “NO! PIZZA! PIZZA!! PIZZA!!!” diversion failed.

Tears are now streaming down his face as though I’ve told him “there’s no more pizza in the whole world and you’re now going to starve to death because we have no other options in our home to eat…sorry. Would you like some dust?”

Like a soldier ready for battle, I plow ahead as planned. I march to the back, get the dog food and cat food prepared while Brighton is following me every step of the way, mustering out between sobs “PIZZA! PIZZA!! PIZZA!!!”

Finally about 6:25 I get him in his high chair, which calms him a little but the wailing has now become habit so he continues a little as though he can’t help it, and I grab a monkey plate (I figure that will make him happier than a plain ol’ fiesta plate). I grab the smallest piece of “PIZZA! PIZZA!! PIZZA!!!” , dab it with a paper towel (if you’ve ever had Casey’s pizza, you know why), eat most of the pepperoni off and give him his “PIZZA! PIZZA!! PIZZA!!!” which he eats two pieces of…

Mom grabs a beer and a slab of pizza and is done for the night…


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