Olive you

I do not like olives. Black, green, minced, whole -- they are the pits, as far as I am concerned. My kids, on the other hand, love them. They will eat even the most exotic of olives, popping them into their mouths with abandon (and, of course, spitting the pits). A bit of an odd choice for 3- and 5-year-olds, to be sure.

I see this as a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because now if we go out to eat, and my salad has olives in it, I have willing recipients. A curse, for a few reasons: 1. Fattening, 2. Expensive, and 3. Pizza. Yes, pizza. The only kind of pizza they want is olive. Not even pepperoni!

I can usually convince them to do the half and half pizza order, which works until we get to leftovers. The kids eat less pizza, so the leftovers are always olive. That means I don't want any. And I love leftover pizza, reheated on my pizza stone in the oven. But leftover olive pizza, blech.

I need to convince myself that this has health benefits for me. If I eat less pizza due to lack of leftovers, I will substitute healthier fare and be the better for it. That's my Spin Mama take for myself. So, thanks girls! (I think)

I love knock-knock jokes, the explanation for my heading:
Knock, knock
Who's there?
Olive
Olive who?
Olive YOU!