This is always my favorite time of the week: grocery shopping. Raeanne and I only ever tag along with mom and dad to make sure they’re getting the correct food. The drive is always the worst part though. Mom and dad are always slow at getting ready to go, and my hangry senses start to take over. As mom adds another item to the cart, my stomach starts to growl even louder, and every time we pass the frozen foods, I hesitate to ask… I know mom knows what I want. I know she has checked that grocery list twice.

I follow behind mom and watch as every muscle in her body moves. Hanger slowly rising back up as my stomach yells for me to feed it. Just as words are about to shoot out of my mouth, mom beats me to the punch. She’s opens the door, reaches for the bag, and tosses it into the cart. I stare at such beauty: pepperoni pizza rolls. My stomach started to rumble again. It was time to get home. The drive home feels like we’re headed towards grandma’s house for Christmas Eve, and I couldn’t be even more anxious. The feeling of being wrapped in a blanket while playing video games, with a plate full of pizza rolls within arm’s length, sounded like the perfect way to spend the rest of my day. Mom asks us to help unload before Raeanne and I got the chance to unbuckle our seatbelts. Once everything is inside and unloaded, I start asking mom for lunch, but she just responds that I am old enough to do it myself.

I pull the bag out of the freezer and place it on the counter. I set the oven to the directed heat for the pizza rolls, and the anticipation begins. The bag setting on the counter reminds me of a perfectly wrapped Christmas present that waits for the moment that a parent gives their child permission to open it. The smell of the heating oven reminds me of the honey-cooked ham that was roasting for dinner at Grandma’s house later that Christmas evening. The oven is preheated, and now I can place each pizza roll on the cookie sheet with love and care. As they cool down, I can feel the hanger starting to settle. It was almost time to eat these wonderful packages of cheesy, pepperoni goodness.

I wait all full fifteen minutes for these pizza rolls just like I wait three hundred and sixty-five days for Christmas to roll back around. Each pepperoni pizza roll brings my stomach happiness the same way opening up that one huge Christmas present does to my heart. This must be what perfection tastes like. I slow down on eating the last one because this moment needs to last; nothing could ever ruin it. The last bite is my last Christmas present – all gone, but full of love and a happy heart.

Finishing all the pizza rolls is just as sad as watching the clock turn from 11:59 P.M. to 12:00 A.M. signifying that Christmas was finally over. The happiness has come in a blink of an eye causing time, to once again, be my worst enemy. One week will go by and another trip to the grocery store will take place, only to replenish my empty heart for more pizza rolls. I will once again be as happy as a child opening up presents on Christmas morning.