Within ours of writing about the things I needed to confess to, I came across another. Grandma Joyce and Aunt Karin have come for a visit but they arrived at supper time and so I ordered pizza, a combination for them and an Hawaiian for Reid and me. A few minutes after I ordered, I got a call from Nicky’s Pizza. The man at the other end of the line explained that they were really busy and the driver had taken the order. He was concerned that the man had written down “combination” instead of “Nicky’s special”. I had to explain that Ken was away and so we didn’t need the Nicky’s Special this time but I thanked him for calling to check. And they say the service industry doesn’t care about it’s clients! (And maybe, you think, we order pizza too often :+)