The Slice.

     The life my father led when I was young must have been pretty pathetic. I have deduced this from how upset he got over one slice of pizza. It was after school and I was hungry so the fridge was my friend and everything in it was up for grabs. Including the leftover pizza that I ate with a vengeance. I went on with my day, did some homework, watched TV. My dad came home after a 16 hour day and went straight to the fridge to get the leftover pizza. Now this is the part really clued me in on how cruddy his life must have been at that point: The best part of his day was going to be leftover pizza.
     Dad came into my room and asked if I ate his food. I fessed-up, but it was a bad idea. He got upset and said he had been looking forward to that pizza all day! Why didn't I ask before I ate it? I thought that man was going to kill me where I stood...because of pizza.
     Some of my more honest friends tell me they aren't ready to have kids because they're still too selfish. They want to go out when they want, party when they want, and have leftovers when they want. I never thought much about that before we got pregnant, now I am. I'm almost thirty years old, so it shouldn't be that big of a deal. Usually, our going "out" consists of a restaurant, maybe a movie, and home before 10:00. Catie and I both work, we're in graduate programs, and we have a very demanding dog to take care of. We'll make time for the baby, without question. But still, am I going to see the light of day ever again? Will there be a point in my life where all I want is to go home and eat leftover pizza but my kid ate it and didn't even ask? Am I going to start writing my name on all my food, post scripted with threats of immanent death upon unwrapping?
     With the joy of childbirth, there might be a hint of regret. Hopefully the twinges of selfishness will dissipate the instant I hold that brand new life in my hands. I won't want to see another movie because I've got entertainment at home! But there's also a part of me that fears losing myself in their life. When they leave, will I just be this empty shell of a former parent? I've seen it happen and it is not pretty.
     So here's to the last slice. Here's to an empty fridge where a full one stood last night. Here's to looking forward to sleep more than sex. And here's to raising the needs of my family high above my own. Because I know, somewhere in my gut, that it will all be worth it in the end.