He’s making oatmeal for us. Last night he made us a pizza from scratch. I wasn’t going to eat the pizza. I am not supposed to eat the pizza. The pizza is not on my meal plan. The pizza is not going to help me win my fitness challenge. The pizza is not…

The pizza is not here today and yet I am still thinking about it. I remember my first bite, how I had to hold the crust with my teeth so that the sauce did not burn my mouth. The slice was the best thing I have ever eaten until I began remembering all the other best things I have eaten. Even still, the experience was sublime. “This is amazing,” I said with cheese dangling from my chin. “I wish I could eat the whole pizza.”

I didn’t eat the whole pizza. I only had two small slices and when I say small I mean that I was disappointed that I chewed them so fast. The pie was piping hot, but the risk of burning my mouth off did not slow me down. I devoured the culinary treasure and then I was ready for something else. It was hot. I was in the mood for something refreshing. He must have read my mind because he turned to me and said, “You know what sounds good? Pina Coladas.”

He did not need to ask me to make them. I was up instantly with agreement, “Yes! That’s exactly what we need. It’s sweltering in here. How hot is it?”

He was lounging on the couch, a piece of pizza on his plate, which was adhered to his belly like a shelf. I wanted to go take his food from him or I wanted to eat him instead. The meal was a feast of fantasy, one he broke with a record, “It’s 87 degrees in here right now.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said, as I let the vodka pour freely into the blender. I don’t care for rum as much, nor recipes. My other hand grabbed for the pineapple mix. I was not as heavy handed with the flavor as I had been with the booze. “It’s dark outside. I can’t believe it’s still that hot. Did you run today?” I asked, wondering if he had been able to stand the scorching temperatures.

He laughed the kind of laugh that said, “You are crazy.” Then he said, “No. Did you work out?”

I shook my head as I handed him his drink. I was already reaching for the cheese and crackers. “Gosh no!” I admitted with a reasonable defense. “Today is my rest day.”

He was amused,”Yes, that’s what I tell myself too.”