Last night was a frozen pizza night in my house. Marc took Lachlan to see his Mom, and after a day of meals and piano and playing around the house, and reading, and answering, and mediating, I was too tired to even pick up the phone. I kept wiping off my glasses thinking that they were foggy or smudged. But really, I was just tired. When I get really tired, my eyes get blurry.
I read to Annaliese before putting her to bed, lying down because I felt like I couldn’t pick up my head, and she said to me quite earnestly “Mommy, that pizza tonight was old, you put it in the oven, it was gross.”
I was shocked, and trying to figure out what to say. Here’s what I came up with: “Honey, that pizza was frozen. We freeze our food because we don’t believe in wasting food because there are so many people in the world who don’t have food. It wasn’t old, it was frozen, and it was still good, and we were lucky to have it.”
She looked at me and said: “and we should try to give more pizza to those other people who don’t have food.”
“Exactly,” I smiled.
Sometimes frozen pizza is not such a bad thing.
Sometimes not giving our kids “the best” is actually the best thing we can do.
Just because, well, because they might realize something about how lucky they are. This was definitely a new lesson in being grateful for what you have.
God bless frozen pizza.
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