Is it even possible to love pizza too much? I don’t know the definite answer to that question or if it is even moral to ask, but if the answer is yes, then my family definitely exceeds the qualifications.
Friday night always means pizza night at the Byrum household. Since before I was even born, my parents have been ordering Massey’s Pizza as their choice of Friday night nourishment. Perhaps I was just born with the Massey’s Pizza gene wound in my DNA, or maybe I was brainwashed by the countless times my dad would say to me, “Kristine, you don’t want to be eating that Donatos Pizza, it tastes like cardboard.” Whatever the reason may be, I am a gung-ho Massey’s Pizza fan today.
Now I don’t doubt that there are many other families in the world that love pizza, I just know mine takes the love of it to an extreme. Let me tell you why.
For his birthday, my dad got Massey’s Pizza gift cards from three different people for a grand total of $80. If you're not yet convinced we are slightly obsessed, please read on. Just this past year Massey’s offered a free $10 for every $50 gift card bought. So, my dad went out and bought $1,000 in Massey's gift cards. We then had a total of $1,200 with the extra $200 we got for free to spend solely on pizzas. You might be thinking, “You guys won't have to pay for pizza for a very long time!” That might be true of any other family except mine because we are already halfway through them and it's only been six months. My guess is we won’t last the summer.
Oh, and I can’t forget about my mom and her over-flowing yellow folder of Massey’s coupons that date back to the early 2000s shoved into our telephone basket. The only one we ever use is a deal for a large pizza, salad, and two-liter, but maybe we keep the others just in case someday we decide to change it up.
I don’t often get the privilege to call in the pizza order because my parents get upset if I forget to ask for extra sauce and cornmeal (apparently it means the end of the world) but when I do, the workers are always so polite after they realize it's the Byrums calling for yet another pizza. Unlike the job of calling in the order, I always get the job of picking it up. Before I leave, it's always the same sequence of events: mom searches frantically for the right coupon which she usually can’t find, while my dad goes to get the gift card. Then I’m out the door with the gift card and coupon in hand (or the promise of a screenshot when she finds it) and a very big Massey’s appetite.
After it's picked up, in the car and safely on its way back home, I can barely resist the temptation to open the box and eat a corner piece in the car. When I finally walk through the door, it's a blur of hands, plates, and pepperoni, but all too soon the box is empty and we are left wishing we would’ve ordered two. If by some miracle there happens to be leftovers the next day, it's either because someone is sick or I went back to college.
So yeah, my family is a tad bit Massey's Pizza obsessed, and my mom and dad have probably spent enough there to have a small share in the company, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Massey’s Pizza night is a tradition that I grew up with and one I hope to continue for the rest of my life.