Anthony Pritchard
Active Member
[Note: I will be leaving the forum in the near future, but I want to post a few more articles first, this is one of them]
The Pizza Man
I always kept a side job so my wife could be a stay-at-home mom. Domino’s Pizza delivery was one of those jobs. Not glamorous, not prestigious, but it paid the bills and kept the home running the way we wanted it.
We had the only sandbox in the neighborhood, which meant my fenced‑in yard was always full of tiny criminals plotting their next move. One afternoon I watched them from the window as they sat in the sand discussing their dads’ jobs like a council of toddlers.
One kid proudly announced, “My dad is a policeman,” and the others oohed and ahhed like he’d just revealed his father was Batman. Another said his dad was a truck driver, and again the impressed murmurs rolled through the sandbox.
Then it came to my son. He just sat there calm, cool as a cucumber and said, “My dad is a Pizza Man.”
The reaction was instant. Eyes widened. Mouths dropped open in perfect little Os. A collective “oooooohhhhhh” rose from the sand like a choir. In that moment, my son became the undisputed hero of the sandbox.
He didn’t mention the Power Plant Operator job. He didn’t mention the maintenance contractor work. He didn’t mention any of the other jobs I held. None of that mattered. In the world of small children, the Pizza Man outranks every profession on earth.
And honestly, when you think about it, they’re right. Who is not happy when the Pizza Man arrives at your door? Who else always brings joy to a household like the Pizza Man?
Maybe the kids had it figured out better than the adults.
Perhaps we should all aspire to the high standard of a Pizza Man.
~Tony
The Pizza Man
I always kept a side job so my wife could be a stay-at-home mom. Domino’s Pizza delivery was one of those jobs. Not glamorous, not prestigious, but it paid the bills and kept the home running the way we wanted it.
We had the only sandbox in the neighborhood, which meant my fenced‑in yard was always full of tiny criminals plotting their next move. One afternoon I watched them from the window as they sat in the sand discussing their dads’ jobs like a council of toddlers.
One kid proudly announced, “My dad is a policeman,” and the others oohed and ahhed like he’d just revealed his father was Batman. Another said his dad was a truck driver, and again the impressed murmurs rolled through the sandbox.
Then it came to my son. He just sat there calm, cool as a cucumber and said, “My dad is a Pizza Man.”
The reaction was instant. Eyes widened. Mouths dropped open in perfect little Os. A collective “oooooohhhhhh” rose from the sand like a choir. In that moment, my son became the undisputed hero of the sandbox.
He didn’t mention the Power Plant Operator job. He didn’t mention the maintenance contractor work. He didn’t mention any of the other jobs I held. None of that mattered. In the world of small children, the Pizza Man outranks every profession on earth.
And honestly, when you think about it, they’re right. Who is not happy when the Pizza Man arrives at your door? Who else always brings joy to a household like the Pizza Man?
Maybe the kids had it figured out better than the adults.
Perhaps we should all aspire to the high standard of a Pizza Man.
~Tony
