MVP flew in for the weekend to see a friend himself home from a military deployment. Friday night was our one window for family only time, so with a reservation made we were esconsed at 6 pm at a table at our neighborhood institution pizza place. The decor is horribly out-of-date art combined with sports sponsorship plaques (looking for childhood teams is always fun) and the food is fantastic, the service great, the atmosphere warm and inviting; if we had a restaurant "home" this would be the place. The kids passed many a dinner/team banquet playing with their signature uncooked dough balls . . . good times.
The Grownups were out looking at houses, so we took our time before ordering (pizza that is, we ordered beer right away). We chatted and caught up and looked backwards and looked forwards. We planned trips and life events. The Grownups came and we talked houses and backyards and looked at cell phone pics. We ate antipasto and used forks on pizza made with a thick crust and toppings almost invisible under a thick layer of cheese . We ordered another pitcher. We lingered and we laughed.
And then we took a selfie.
During the pre-dinner banter it was noted that Mr. Fix-it had changed his phone screensaver . . . to a recently unearthed photo of me when I was 17. I am not sure who took it because it was clear I took all the other photos on the roll. Possibly Mr. Fix-it took it? Anyway, my first reaction was, "That's not even a good picture of me!"
You can keep the lift in Dirty Dancing or the kiss in The Notebook for romantic moments, I've got this one. Mr. Fix-it said, "Bad picture? What do you mean? This is who you were when I first met you. This picture IS you. I love it."
