pizza
One thing that was always associated with Christmas Eve was pizza. There were several reasons why we kept it up, but we wouldn't have started it if it hadn't been a practical solution at the time.
Sometime around 1970, my folks had a lot of extra errands to do for Christmas Eve. There were some special deliveries and other things that kept everybody too busy to do much of anything about dinner.
As it got later at night, more places were closing for the holiday. The only place that was open was a pizza parlor and so my folks decided to order a pizza. The next year, we were just as busy and since the pizza went over well the year before, we decided to do it again. I know that after 2 or 3 years, it pretty much becomes tradition.
All of a sudden there was a problem. Even the pizza places started closing early. I think it became a harder search and we had to forgo for a couple years, but then we were able to get our Christmas Eve pizza again. Even after I moved away and couldn't always come home, we'd each have our own pizza at our own house and think about times we spent together.
When my dad had his heart surgeries, he told his doctor that was the only time of year he would eat pizza. His doctor wasn't happy but did go along with it. My dad did keep true to that with very few exceptions.
The last real Christmas I spent with my mom in 2003, we did the same thing. I was in California cleaning out her house so that it could be sold and I picked up the pizza on the way to see her. We had pizza and watched a couple movies and had a fairly good time. The owner of the house looked the other way about my staying late, which was very nice of them, especially because they were doing their own Christmas preparations.
Even last Christmas I had pizza, but there wasn't anyone to share it with me. I was eating it inside a motel room, having called the order in as soon as I got in from the hospital that night.
At this point it's become a habit, and I'm pretty sure I'll do it again this year. After all, Christmas Eve reminds me of pizza.
Sometime around 1970, my folks had a lot of extra errands to do for Christmas Eve. There were some special deliveries and other things that kept everybody too busy to do much of anything about dinner.
As it got later at night, more places were closing for the holiday. The only place that was open was a pizza parlor and so my folks decided to order a pizza. The next year, we were just as busy and since the pizza went over well the year before, we decided to do it again. I know that after 2 or 3 years, it pretty much becomes tradition.
All of a sudden there was a problem. Even the pizza places started closing early. I think it became a harder search and we had to forgo for a couple years, but then we were able to get our Christmas Eve pizza again. Even after I moved away and couldn't always come home, we'd each have our own pizza at our own house and think about times we spent together.
When my dad had his heart surgeries, he told his doctor that was the only time of year he would eat pizza. His doctor wasn't happy but did go along with it. My dad did keep true to that with very few exceptions.
The last real Christmas I spent with my mom in 2003, we did the same thing. I was in California cleaning out her house so that it could be sold and I picked up the pizza on the way to see her. We had pizza and watched a couple movies and had a fairly good time. The owner of the house looked the other way about my staying late, which was very nice of them, especially because they were doing their own Christmas preparations.
Even last Christmas I had pizza, but there wasn't anyone to share it with me. I was eating it inside a motel room, having called the order in as soon as I got in from the hospital that night.
At this point it's become a habit, and I'm pretty sure I'll do it again this year. After all, Christmas Eve reminds me of pizza.
posted by Miz @ 8:05 PM
1 Comments:
At 11:17 PM,
Marianne said…
Yes. But what kind of pizza?
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