It’s humbling to watch a child grow and realize in a visceral way that you and your generation are getting old and becoming increasingly irrelevant.
I think of this as Margot develops her own tastes and opinions, here as it relates to pizza.
She and a couple preschool buddies often used to go to Gloria Pizza for lunch after class (moms in tow, of course). So naturally Gloria is where she wanted us to order her birthday party pizza. We had originally placed an order with a different pizzeria that was closer to her party venue (Little Pulp in Atlas Park mall), but she said preferred Gloria’s sauce to the other place’s, which is too sweet for her taste.
For this kind of thing, I just figure, who cares, it’s a bunch of kids playing—as long as they’re fed, we’re good. But Margot clearly loves Gloria. What I’m getting at is that it’s HER local go-to in a way that it will never be for me, since I’m rarely in that part of the neighborhood. She has her own history with the place (albeit short) and her own attachments that I, as Overbearing Pizza Dad, had nothing to do with. Spread your greasy wings, little bird, and fly!
Until next post, folks, hasta la pizza. 😊🍕✌