I Just Made The Bestest Pizza. No. Really. I Did.

I just made the bestest pizza evah! I did. I really did! But you're going to have to wait until tomorrow for my post. Sorry. But I can be bitchy that way. Or just plain beat and tired as hell. Let me start out. It was a little after 5pm. The phone rang. I saw, on Caller ID, it was Mr. H. I answered, not with "Hello," but with, "Yes, I got the milk." Mr. H.: "OK, bye." That was the entire conversation, if you want to call it that. I know him so well. And he didn't even ask about that. He gets home. "What's for supper?" I have everything spread out - all the fixin's for the pizza. He says, "You know, I was really thinkin' about a pizza tonight, but maybe a different kind of pizza." Oh my, sit down, have a glass of wine, and hold on to your seat. Finally, Mr. H.: "Oh my gosh, you're doing pizza!" My friends, canna jus tellya (That was SandySpeak.), this pizza was TO.DIE.FOR. Promise, I'll post tomorrow. Until then... Oh wait, we just finished eating the pizza. And Mr. Hawthorne, exhausted, said "I just had food sex."