My little Italian boy 

I had Jacob in at the doctor again today – fortunately this time just for a follow up from the visit last week about his ribs (Lord knows we can’t handle any new issues). As he was sitting on the table he started talking about how he a) wasn’t feeling all that well and b) needed some pizza.

I told him that if he wasn’t feeling well that he shouldn’t be eating pizza.

He responded with “what – do you think Italians don’t go eat pizza for lunch when they’re sick? No they go have pizza and gelato and then go sit by the beach”.

So I quoted that and sent it to the Italian part of the family who completely agreed with him. This led to a lovely discussion in chat with us remembering being sick and cared for as children, and how being a sick adult isn’t the same at all.

On our way home we decided to stop at Mercato’s and have a little pasta therapy. The entire time this kid ate all he could do was groan in pleasure as he described how amazing the food tasted going into his belly. Then he took a picture of the menu so we could go get the ingredients and recreate it at home later.

To truly enjoy your meal and to sit in the moment and appreciate with gratitude not only the food, but the people who prepared it – that’s a real joy.  My happiness moment, sharing a meal with my boy.