My bad

Lisa astounds me with how well she can cook something I ask her to cook even when it's something unfamiliar to her. Tonight I left pizza dough ready to be rolled and made into pizza for her, with instructions for one cheese and one green pepper and mushroom pizza. She's never made pizza for us before.

When we came home from gymnastics, everything was ready. I sat down at the table, looked at the beautifully placed rings of green pepper on our pizza, then at the cheese pizza, then the salad, then the ketchup . . .

Wait, ketchup? Why was there ketchup on the table? Another glance at the cheese pizza told me that sauce had not been clearly stated as a necessary ingredient for the pizza. I went into the kitchen and, not wanting to embarrass Lisa, said, "I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you to put sauce on the pizza!" She said she wondered about it, but it wasn't in the instructions on the counter (which actually was the recipe for the pizza dough). We ended up heating up the sauce and dipping it, which was fine.

I had flashbacks to a trip in Trinidad, where they actually DID put ketchup on the pizza in lieu of sauce. Not a good idea. I'm glad we didn't have to go that route.