I lived with my father. My mother left when I was a baby, but I never missed her. I had Dad. What better parent was there? He wasn't at home a whole lot because he worked two jobs, but when he was around everything was perfect. Dad worked 9-6 for his job as a secretary and then 11-7 as his job for a night watchmen. Sometimes he wouldn't come home between shifts and that was fine.

Tuesdays were different.

Mondays Dad always had to stay late for his secretary job. When he came home, whether it was late of early, he always brought home a works pizza. We would eat it, cold out of the box, for supper on Tuesdays. Tuesdays were our catch up days. I told him everything, and he told me everything in return. It was my favourite night of the week. And it was the most delicious pizza I have ever tasted in my entire life. I don't know whether it was because of the pizza place, or the cold pizza, but I think it was the company.