If the Pizza Box Could Talk…..

Today the morning fog was thicker than usual, the coffee wasn’t kicking in and my thoughts were focused on my upcoming vacation.

I checked my calendar and sighed out loud when the meeting reminder popped up. I had no idea why I had been asked to attend or what I could possibly contribute.  Nevertheless I gathered up my notebook, shawl, yogurt, and coffee, put on a smile and headed to the conference room.

As a dutiful work wife does, I stopped and asked my ‘husband’ if he was ready for the conference call.  We chatted about the vendor and the potential business opportunities as we walked.

The invite had one other person and me on it, but the room was full.  I expected us to lurk outside waiting for the meeting to end, but instead he led the way through the door.  I was confused, but I followed.

I stopped and scanned the room; my confusion grew as I noted bagels, fruit, and coffee on the credenza and the majority of the people in the room made less sense than me to be there.

My eyes made it to the table and I saw a mint green envelope; I put the pieces together and realized that it wasn’t a ‘real’ meeting, it was a birthday breakfast and it was for me!

“Is this a fake meeting?” I exclaimed.

The room erupted and I knew I had been duped.

I nearly cried, and then burst into laughter when I took in the pizza box that was on the table next to the envelope.  The cover was a picture of me with my head in my hands and a look of dismay on my face, in the same picture was a pizza delivery guy.

He was all decked out in his red and white striped shirt, and with a grin and a cartoon bubble he said, “Hot & steamy pizza just for you….care for a little extra sauce?”

There’s a funny story here, and yes one time the pizza guy did deliver extra blue cheese dressing and marina sauce, a tale for another time.

I didn’t think it could get any better until I opened the box and inside I found a Volvo symbo, a dozen rolos, a container of marina sauce, and last but not least a pile of tissues neatly taped to the bottom of the box.

It was a pizza box full of stories and laughter. They nailed it; from the story of the pizza guy, to my chocolate loving ghost, and everyday life as a ‘real’ mom who doesn’t carry tissues, it couldn’t have been  more perfect.

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