Now He Belongs To The Ages
But who can eat just one slice? Nobody I know.
Last night the whole Texas clan gathered around the dining room table and ate like there was no tomorrow. There was Meat Lovers Pizza, Pepperoni Pizza with extra cheese, Pepperoni Lovers, and Chicken with Bacon and Buffalo Sauce Pizza. That was good for starters. Along with the big square boxes there were other boxes filled with Garlic Breadsticks, Cinnamon Breadsticks, some rather odd Potato thingies, and some little apple pie-like pastries. Oh, yeah, and two gallons of iced tea. Gotta love those “Meal-Deals.”
Nobody starved to death in that house last night. A bunch of arteries moved closer to Bypass City, but no one went hungry.
Everybody at the table was at least in their mid-forties. Most of us would have been able to show our Medicare Cards if asked.
There was one exception.
We were blessed with the presence of the seventeen year old son of the youngest adult in the room. That young man was like Brigham Young’s swarm of locusts when it came to the pizza.
Nothing was going to escape his assault.
While most of us Geezers and Geezerettes nibbled away, a couple even using knife and fork to eat, that boy, let’s call him “Godzilla,” was downing slice after slice like they were Japanese office buildings. It was, in its own way, impressive to watch. It brought back memories of my younger days when pizza was the basis for all forms of college life.
The young man in our presence was putting on a show. As soon as the pizza came through the door he staked a claim on his favorite. That box somehow ended up under his plate. He then encircled it with his big ol’ drink cup and his arms rendering the pizza box well hidden. As one slice disappeared down Godzilla’s maw, there was a quick move and another slice miraculously appeared on his plate. This was not his first rodeo. Career Advice: Learn to eat hot dogs like that and you could turn Pro and make a good living.
I was sitting across the table from him watching his every move. He noticed that I was staring at him. I think he was fearful that I would blow his cover. I smiled and he slipped me a slice from his personal stash. It was the Chicken with the Buffalo Sauce. Tasty with just a little zing to it. I will remember that the next time we order a pizza.
I managed to eat two slices on my own along with the slice from Godzilla – my “Hush Pizza.” I was stuffed. Clear off some wall space and mount me like a Moose head. I was done. I think I may not eat again until Groundhog Day. I may have thrown in the napkin, but Godzilla just shifted gears and hit the side dish items. I knew then that I was in the presence of Greatness.
Everyone seemed satisfied with the meal. I was happy. “Gramma” was happy, and Godzilla was happy. I don’t know how he was at three AM this morning when his digestive system might have raised a white flag, but he’s young.
Last night was more than a family meal. It was the passing of the gastric torch to the next generation.