Pizza or Volcano

I mostly do all of the meal planning around here. And by "mostly" I mean that my boyfriend will occasionally buy a frozen pizza for lunch on days when I don't feel like cooking.  It's not his fault -- I am vegetarian, he's not. He can cook the heck out of schnitzel or a roast, I'm sure -- but when it comes to legumes and tofu and veggies he's 99% clueless.

Today he asked me to write a shopping list for tomorrow's meals. I spent 15 minutes looking around online for something and finally decided, "Pizza." I just didn't feel like dealing with finding something new, and I am burned out on pasta and Asian.

My boyfriend hesitated. I could see the wheels working in his head... "Pizza.. But I ate that last week.. And making it at home isn't great... Mehhhh..." Then he remembers my psychic powers, and that I know he's not crazy about pizza tonight. He also remembers that my last Pill was two days ago and my hormones are going crazy, stirring like fiery pools of magma under the Earth's surface, just waiting for a tiny fissure in the crust to appear so they can rage out, covering everything in a 100-mile radius with white-hot fury.

"OK, pizza is fine!"

Good man.