Tag / pizza

by Kelly Mattei

He’s Somebody’s Baby

He’s somebody’s baby.

Late yesterday afternoon, when my daughter got home from a Secret Santa party, she asked me to order her a pizza. I normally order from a favorite local place, but I remembered some cheesy bread another pizza place has, so I ordered from there, thinking it would be fun to try something different.

We live in a gated neighborhood, so when I placed the order, I included directions about how to get in. About an hour later, I received a phone call, and when I answered, a man on the other end of the line was rambling, saying, “I’m outside the gate and can’t get in. Do you want me to leave your pizza at the gate? I see a sign out here that says go to the light and turn left and turn left again, and I don’t understand that, so should I leave your pizza for your here? I don’t see a keypad. I’m not sure what you want me to do…leave the pizza here?” Seriously. I had to interrupt him to say, “No! Please don’t leave it at the gate! You went to the wrong gate, but I will come get it from you. Just wait there!”

It took me about sixty seconds to get into my car and to the back gate, but I was a little hesitant, because I had no idea what was going on. On my way out the door, I told my husband I would be right back, but I added, “The guy sounded weird. I have no idea what’s going on.” Was the pizza delivery guy hopped up on drugs? It sure sounded like it on the phone. What was I walking into?

As soon as I got to the gate and saw the pizza delivery guy outside his car, I knew. The pizza delivery guy was outside his car, pacing. When he saw me walk to the fence in front of my car, he said, “Oh! Let me get your pizza! I’ll get your pizza now!” He hurried to his car and got the pizza, then brought it over to me, handing it over the fence. I thanked him and wished him a Merry Christmas. He thanked me and wished me a Merry Christmas too. And he started rambling again, “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should leave the pizza at the gate. Some people want me to leave it at the gate.” He went on and on. I just said, “This was perfect! Thank you again! And Merry Christmas!” (I tipped in advance on my credit card.)

He wasn’t hopped up on drugs at all. He had special needs…likely “on the spectrum” somehow. But he was out there trying to earn a living and working hard to do it correctly! He was worried that he was doing it wrong. He wanted to make the customer happy. He simply wanted to do a good job. And he did. I was thrilled to see him working hard, and I thought his mother would be proud.

Because yes, he has a mother. Somewhere, he has a mother. And she probably has always worried he wouldn’t be able to get a job. She probably worried he wouldn’t be able to function in society or contribute to the “greater good.” She might have worried people would be afraid of him or make fun of him. He is her baby, after all.

But last night, he definitely contributed to society. He delivered a much-needed pizza for a tired, hungry, teenage girl. He did a good job. I wish I could tell his mom.

by Kelly Mattei

Be a Good Memory

Be a good memory.

Our daughter had her junior prom last weekend. Yep, even in the pandemic, her school found a way to pull it off. It was outside on one of the athletic fields, but in the pictures, it appears to have been beautiful. Lights were strung tent-style across the field, and a live band played in an area overlooking the field. The prom-goers all wore sneakers, and from what I’ve heard, everyone was pretty happy to be together at a real event.

If you have a teenager, you know they do things a little differently than we did back in the 1980s. Now, the girls gather at one place to get dressed together. And then they gather with their dates at a photo location…sometimes a park, country club, or someone’s really beautiful yard. Parents gather to take photos, and then the prom-goers go to dinner somewhere before going to the actual prom. In truth, the actual prom seems to be the least exciting part of the evening. That’s not a slam on our school. I hear it from kids everywhere…all over the country. They say the prom is the reason for getting dressed up, but the fun part is the before and after.

Because, yes…there’s an “after.”

This year, some of our daughter’s friends and their dates came to our house after prom to hang out in the game room together. When I told my husband we would be hosting, he was not a happy man. He is a man who likes his routine, and that includes going to bed before midnight. He actually said to me, “They’ll be gone before midnight, right?” Ummm…no. I had to explain to him that, no, on prom night, all bets are off on curfew. Again, he was not happy. Clearly, he doesn’t remember his youth as well as I remember mine. I suggested he go to a hotel, and he looked at me like I had fourteen eyes.

Lucky for me, later that day, we saw one of our neighbors, a mother of four. She has three grown children (all out of college, and two of them are married) and a fourteen-yr-old. She has seen it all. And for years, teenagers were in and out of her house at all hours of the day and night. My husband was standing there when I told the neighbor about his apprehension about the party, and she had the perfect response. She said, “We used to host those parties when our kids were in high school, and now I love it when I’m at weddings and baby showers for their friends, and the friends say to me, ‘My best memories from high school were at your house.'” I turned to my husband and said, “See? We want to be a good memory for these kids!”

What could he say to that? It was at that moment that he agreed it was OK to have them over after prom. After some prodding by me, he also decided it would be a good idea for him to check into a local hotel for the night. If he had stayed home, he would have been “in my ear” the whole time, trying to get me to go check on the kids every half hour. I was not going to do that…no way, no how.

Prom night came, and our daughter went over to a friend’s house to get dressed with friends. Later, I rode to the friend’s house with another mom to take pictures of all the prom couples. After getting some pics, we all left, and they had dinner before going to prom. By the time they arrived at our house after prom at around 11pm, I had pizzas, cheesy bread sticks, and desserts waiting for them in the game room. All went well. I cooked breakfast for them in the wee hours of the morning, and I finally got to bed around 4am…but I was happy.

The next day, after everyone left, my husband returned home from the hotel, asking how the night had gone. I told him all about it, and I thanked him for letting the kids come to our house. I thanked him for letting our house “be a good memory” for these kids.

I hope that one day, when I’m attending the weddings and baby showers of these same kids, they will turn to me and say, “Some of our best memories from high school are from your house.”