I live in a carefully curated thought bubble where woke bros and social justice warriors nurture each other’s uniqueness through tolerance and understanding. Recently, however, my you-do-youtopia was shattered when all of social media erupted into an all-out war on one of life’s great joys: pineapple pizza.
Let me back up.
Pizza time at my house can be tricky. The kids are picky. My wife can’t eat tomatoes. But pizza is the only thing I feel like eating about 90 percent of the time, so I’m determined to find a pie that pleases everyone.
Enter Barro’s Pizza, my longtime favorite delivery joint, which recently opened a new location just a couple miles from our house. These local legends are known for their pillowy crust, ample mozzarella, heavenly chunks of Italian sausage and impossibly cheap lunch specials.
They even accommodate a mom’s unique food intolerance with tomato-free specialty pies, including the Hot Wing Pizza (wing sauce) and an off-menu white pizza (olive oil base). The masterstroke came a few years ago when Barro’s introduced the Kona Pizza — chicken, teriyaki sauce and pineapple with mozzarella and cheddar cheeses. Continue reading I raised my son to love pineapple on pizza, and you need to be OK with that
The Hobbit just started going to preschool, and she asked me to cut her peanut butter and honey sandwich into a Wonder Woman shape. Using only an IKEA steak knife, this is what I made on my first try.
I need to work on my humblebrags.
She ate almost the whole thing, which is a big win. And yes, she’s allowed to bring peanut butter to class.
Also, if you like the new DC Super Hero Girls toys, you might still be able to buy the Comic Con-exclusive Katana action doll at Matty Collector. Save her for Christmas. Or just keep her in the package forever.
Hey there, jobber. Employed person. Working so-and-so. Whatever you call yourself. How would it feel if you suddenly got a four-hour break from all work activities? How about if this break became a regular thing, happening twice a week?
I’ll tell you how it feels. My son (almost 5) and daughter (newly 3) just started going to preschool at the same time. A wonderful group of teachers is imparting essential skills and molding these animals into better people with no help from this stay-at-home dad. I’m useless for about four hours, twice a week.
It’s an electrifying opportunity to catch up on elusive goals like fitness and creativity. It’s a focused moment for chipping away at big projects around the house. It’s prime time for personal errands like haircuts and doctor visits as well as boring stuff like auto repair, lunch with grown-ups and stores that don’t sell toys.
The only drag on my newfound freedom is this haunting truth: We’re paying a lot in tuition, and I don’t make any money. The longer the kids are in school, the less being a stay-at-home dad makes financial sense.
That’s why I’m resolving to make the most of every four hours of useless. Here’s what I did the first day: Continue reading My four hours of useless