I usually don’t post my own writing here but last night, I had a migraine and when those hit, I try to do some deep breathing exercises to keep myself from vomiting or crying with the pain and nausea. My husband has been ill since before Halloween and spent 13 days in the hospital after spending two weeks unable to get out of his recliner. He came home Sunday night and is still so weak, it’s scary to see him. Of course, this all triggered my migraine.
As I lay there doing my deep breathing, I suddenly found myself chanting (inner monologue) Pizza, Pasta, and Spaghettios. As I waited for my meds to kick in, this little story came to me and so I thought I’d share it. So, here it is, my 2:30 am little ditty.
Pizza, Pasta, and Spaghettios
From the moment the door to DiMaggio’s Pizza Parlor opened and she strolled in, he knew he was going to marry her someday. When she walked over to the old fashioned juke box, he thrust his pool cue toward his best friend, the college quarterback, and told him to finish the game.
He took coins from his pocket and asked her what song she wanted to play. From that day forward, they were together and spent many an evening having pizza at DiMaggio’s and playing that song they loved. Their song.
When they both became professionals and paid off their student loans, with their new found financial ability to treat themselves, they experimented with pasta. Carbonara, shrimp scampi on angel hair, penne ala vodka, and clams with linguine. They chose pasta over pizza for a number of years.
When the children came, the fancy pasta took a back seat to spaghettios. They didn’t mind as the kids loved them and they were happy to see them eat a semblance of their favorite Italian cuisine.
When the children were older, DiMaggio’s became a favorite place again as the kids found their love of various flavors of pizza there. Cheese to start and moving on to pepperoni, but as their palates became more sophisticated, they ventured into mushrooms, peppers, and even anchovies on occasion.
With the children grown, married and on their own, he and she returned to their fancy pasta. Carbonara, shrimp scampi on angel hair, penne ala vodka, and clams with linguine.
In his old age, with her gone to heaven, he sometimes ate spaghettios straight from the can over the sink, her favorite song running through his mind. Their song. For eternity.
Ramblings of a Writer 