Banana pizza

Recently, my mother and sister invited Grace and I out to lunch.  We don’t get many invitations, and we heartily accepted. 

We went to lunch at one of those pizza buffet places.  Pizza buffet places are not my friend, especially since I have to work really hard to lose control my weight.  Anyway, I digress.

I fed Grace all kinds of treats at the pizza buffet, and she happily gawked around and tasted almost all of them.

Until dessert.

There was blueberry cheese pizza (surprisingly yummy), apple pizza, s’mores pizza, and chocolate banana pizza.  Not wanting to miss out on anything, I took one little slice of each.  

Miss Grace was looking right at me when I set my plate full o’ pizza down and pulled out my chair.  Faster than I could grab her arm, she whisked the chocolate banana pizza right off my plate, licked it, and dropped it in her lap.

Ooey, gooey, chocolate-covered banana pudding side down.

Would it have happened any other way?

And then instantly, chocolately banana pudding was smeared everywhere.  It was on the high chair, on the table, on her face, in her lap, on her shirt. Every. Where.  It was even in between her chubby little fingers.  I had no idea there was so much pudding on that one little slice of pizza pie.  

Oh, but there was more. 

She held up that pizza and licked it up and down.  She sucked on it.  She chewed it with her teeth, and then she chewed it with her swollen gums in the back.

Then there was pudding in her hair, on the floor, and on her belly under her shirt.  

It was like beach sand.  You know, stuck in every little crevice.  

Banana pudding.