She makes her own pizzas. English muffins, sauce from a jar, shredded cheese. Sometimes black olives.

Oh oh. We are out of pizza sauce. “Here! This is the same thing, just a bigger jar.”


“What does that say?”
“Marinara sauce. Just like pizza sauce. “I don’t like marinaras.”
How do I explain this…. “Marinara is just the name of the person who made it. Like, it could be Rickert sauce or Moriarty sauce.”


“Okay. I’ll just pick off the marinaras.”
And there they are in the sink, those little red spots between the bubbles and the pizza cutter.


Hopefully she didn’t miss any marinaras. I wouldn’t want her to dislike her pizza!


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