Half is Half unless it's the wrong half

We had dinner at Vinny's East Coast Pizza tonight.
It's new for Champaign and it promises to be real east coast.
East, maybe.
Coast, sadly no.
Pennsylvania east, at best. Not NJ.
Not even Hunterdon county.


Still, it's the closest we're going to get here where they for some reason think pizza should be as thick as pastry and cut into odd shapes.

I called and asked for an extra large pie.
They told me they don't sell pie. I said "right, sorry, Extra large plain pizza".
"You mean no sauce?" or no cheese?"
"No, no - a regular normal pizza."
Okay. Anything else?
"Do you have cheese sticks?"
"No. We do have mozzarella sticks."


"Yes, an order of mozzarella sticks please," I say rolling my eyes.



This night we choose to eat at Vinnys when arriving to pick up dinner. Hoping in vain that eating it there will make it better. It doesn't but we're out of the house and that counts for something.

Almost done with a whole PIE, Lucio says he wants half of a slice.
I give him a whole one. He says half.
I am distracted by Jack having too much cheese in his mouth. Fearing our son could choke, I focus on the child.
When I look back Lucio has torn the pizza in half - taking the whole end with crust and leaving the triangle of cheese.


I am shocked at what I see.

"That's not half."
"Of course it is."
"That's not how you half a slice of pizza. You cut down the length, leaving an equal amount of crust on each slice. That's the rule."
"Whose rule?"
"EVERYONES!"
"Half is half. Ask anyone"

I go for my phone and call Caye. She worries rightly that settling a domestic dispute is not in her best interest. She wisely says my halfing is correct. I thank her and move on to call Jamie. He doesn't answer so I leave our dilemna on his voicemail.

Two hours later we are saying goodnight to Jack. I hear my phone tink to let me know I have a texd message. It's from Jamie.

It reads.

Lucio is right. He usually is. Half is half.

Doing his smug little dance down the hallway, Lucio calls out "Jack, I love your Uncle Jamie."

Rightly guessing he is not going to get an extra book tonight unless he chooses sides, Jack yells, "It's not half Daddy."

3 books for Jack. No Friday special for Lucio.

Writers Note: Portions of this have actually happened to other people. But these are people who love me. And know that I would never let the frivolous things like "facts" get in the way of a good story.

Fine. So the mozzarella was my story.

The pizza? Caye. Still a great story. She should blog too.