As long as I can remember, Friday night has always been pizza night. When I was growing up, my father took us to Albanese's restaurant every Friday night for sausage pizza.
Every Friday, without fail.
Every Friday, without fail.
Nowadays I cook homemade pizza and we have it every Friday, without fail.
The old dog doesn't want to learn new tricks at this point in his life, but I can't help but wonder if there is something to be said for sharing a tradition as simple as pizza?
Will we still have pizza every Friday night when he is gone?
Will life seem slightly off kilter if we abandon this simple weekly expression of togetherness?
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