Lunchtime with Squeaker

We had pizza for lunch the other day. But Squeaker said it was too hot. So he flipped it upside down (so the cheese was on the plate and the crust was up), and he asked me to cut it.

Like a snowman.

(Side note: How do you cut a pizza like a SNOWMAN?)

So, I cut it vertically, but he shrieked, “No! No! Not like that! Like this!” And he proceeded to wave his arms in some fashion that resembled a chicken directing traffic at an airport. (Does the pig latin language have an official sign language translation?)

I tried again, this time cutting it horizontally.

“Yeah, yeah, like that,” Squeaker said.

So when he had six strips of pizza, he directed me to cut it vertically again. (Apparently order is important.) “Like a snowman,” he said again.

And like I knew what he was talking about, I continued to cut his crust-side-up pizza until he had a bunch of little squares. Then he said, “Now do this. Like a snowman.” And then he did more gestures that may have been offensive in some countries, and questionable at least in this one, and I just sat there and said, “Huh?”

He made some more gestures with his hands (maybe he’s in training to be a third base coach??), and I eventually figured out he wanted me to pull the pieces apart. (“Like a snowman.” Seriously, Squeaker, I don’t get it.) So, I used my fingers… and I got more shrieking and possibly a middle finger. “WITH YOUR KNIFE!!!” he yelled. “LIKE A SNOWMAN!!!”

If you’re confused, them let me simply assure you that Squeaker did, in fact, end up eating some of his lunch. Then Munchkin decided they needed to build a fort, and that was much more exciting than crust-side-up snowman pizza.

Life is never boring with those two around.

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