I am a working mom who is operating at full capacity. We really just hover at maximum these days. Last week CC was out of the country. That tipped us over at times. This week we have a little birthday boy. I knew it would be a stretch to organize a mid-week birthday party. So, I planned and did as much as possible ahead of his big day, Wednesday.
I came home Tuesday afternoon and baked my little heart out. I made a chocolate cake from scratch, then icing from scratch. (Don't be in awe...no mixes available here, I have to.) He wanted a T-Rex on his cake. I made some green icing, and CC went to work making a dinosaur on top. Then I baked oatmeal raisin cookies for his classmates. I had asked him last week what special dinner he might want for his birthday. I suggested tacos, what the girls always want. He said, "No mom, they are too wolly." "Wolly?" "Yes," he said, "everything wolls out." Then he brightened, "How about pizza?" Perfect! Dominoes is a phone call away. Then he uttered, "Can you make it homemade, mama?" Well, for heaven's sake. He only turns 4 once, and he's the apple of my eye.
I decided to make my pizza dough on Tuesday night, the night before. I put it in a big tupperware in the fridge. The next morning, it had pushed the lid off and spilled out. Sweet Cheeks and I giggled about it before school, thinking it looked like a growing monster, but I thought nothing of it. Or why it did that.
When I got home from school today, my pizza dough smelled (and tasted) like a Milwaukee brewery. What to do??? The early bird clearly did not get the worm. I tried so hard to work ahead. But those big blue eyes asking me for homemade pizza would not leave my mind, I refused to call Dominoes, so I just rolled it out and hoped for the best. And you what? The pizza tasted great. (hiccup)