I can't have anything for myself! Have I mentioned that? Not even if it belongs to someone else. No small kindness for Mrs. HM. She's an afterthought.
On Sunday, I bought a Save A Lot pizza for Farmer H to have for supper on Sunday and Monday. It's like a deli pizza from the Devil's Playground. Not frozen. You buy it and take it home to cook it. I dug through a stack five-high to get just the right pepperoni pizza for Farmer H. They had two of the three-meat kind, but they looked older. As did a couple of the pepperoni version. But I found the best one.
While Farmer H was driving The Pony home, I got his pizza ready to cook. I added more pepperoni (bought at the store, because he kept "forgetting" to bring home the ones he got for FREE from his Harem, and left at one of the flip houses). I drained a can of mushrooms to add. I sliced a little onion. And I tore up two slices of provolone cheese to add on top.
Farmer H said it was really good pizza. He ate half that night, and the other half on Monday night. In fact, he was full, because he'd had a full Salisbury Steak lunch at the Senior Center that day. I was scratching lottery tickets at the kitchen table when he came back to the kitchen for dessert. (He was not all THAT full, it seems!)
Anyhoo... I noticed Farmer H throwing away his plate, after putting something on the kitchen counter.
"What's that? What are you doing?"
"Oh, I was putting what was left there for the dogs."
"Wait! You had PIZZA left? I might have wanted that!"
"Well, it was just a little piece. You usually say no. You can still have it. Here. It's fine."
"It'll be fine. Here, I'll get it."
"NO! I am not eating off the dog tray! All that trouble I went to, fixing up your pizza, and you can't even ask if I want to try it."
"I didn't even think of it. I'm sorry."
Well. There's that.
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