When I was a little girl, Friday night was “Pizza Night.” To this day, we have pizza for supper every Friday night. It’s tradition and it’s always a fun time.
But about three weeks ago, for the first time ever, “Friday Night Pizza Night” was — as my mom put it — “the Pizza Night from hell.”
My family, my sister Ashley’s family, and my parents decided to meet at Johnny’s Pizza on Southern Loop in Shreveport.
On the way there, Dad was pulling a trailer and bumped into a vehicle in front of him. Miraculously, they got that cleared up and actually made it to Johnny’s Pizza to meet us.
All twelve of us were seated, and then we waited. And waited. And waited.
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