Home-made
The woman plunged her hands into the tough dough. At this point in making her pizza dough, utensils were useless. After drenching her hands in olive oil the dough was gooey and easier to manipulate. As she kneaded and rolled the dough she went over the events of the day.
The day had begun as somewhat normal; Rhonda had been awoken by her baby at 5:30 in the morning. The eight month old boy had been teething, and had created a horrible pattern of waking at this outrageous time every morning. On this normal early morning the sleeping, grouchy bear-like man beside her had let out his furious growl. Thom, her husband, had been adjusting poorly to parenthood. He did not appreciate the sweet smell of diapers, the tender crying noises and coos, or the chubby little grabby hands. Nor did he much like the sensitive, emotional woman he now shared his bed with.
Rhonda sprinkled olive oil on the cookie sheet and began to pat out the pizza dough, she thought about how insensitive Thom was being about their poor little infants� pains. She glanced to where her ailing infant now lay crouched on the living room floor surrounded by toys. The young boy had also been learning to crawl; now she had to keep an extra close eye on him so he didn�t get into mischief.
Rhonda�s day had been as frustrating and busy as ever. Added to her normal routine of going to the grocery store and cleaning the house, she also had to pay bills, go to the post office, and take the recyclables in. Not to mention that her car would not start, and she had to ask a neighbor for help to jump-start it. Getting things done was not made easy by the fact that her young child needed constant looking after. Also since the infant was hurting intermittently she continually found herself simply lying beside him, comforting and consoling as best she could.
As Rhonda finished shredding the cheese for her pizza she glanced once more in the living room at her roaming son. He had managed to cross the room and was getting into trouble. She quickly wiped her hands and picked the curious child up, just as he was about to explore the tastes and textures of crumpled newspaper. After giving him tender chidings she set him in his walker near the kitchen entrance.
�Are you done yet, woman?� Thom asked, somewhat jokingly, from the other room. He had arrived home from work two hours before to find Rhonda asleep with the baby curled in her arms. At first he had been somewhat angry, then became jealous and began teasing her. He thought it was just playful teasing. Mocking her laziness, criticizing her housekeeping skills, and demanding dinner; he truly knew how to make Rhonda feel terrible.
As Rhonda slid the pizza, toppings and all, in the oven, she turned around to find Thom holding the baby. He was making a goofy face, causing the little child to giggle with delight, and Rhonda couldn�t help but laugh a little herself. Thom turned and looked at Rhonda and she saw his eyes sparkle. �I love you.� He spoke gently, taking her into his arms beside the wiggling baby. At moments like these she knew, no matter what happened in the day, she loved him too. And they were truly happy.