Simmy thought, 'A warm comfort food dinner is what all those hard working men need.'
She called construction son and said, "What is the first food that pops into your head?"
"I'm working Mom," he said impatiently.
"What's the picture of food in your head right now?"
Simmy persisted.
"Pizza," he said.
"I knew it! See ya later," Simmy said and she heard a manly snort- chuckle which always means 'my crazy mother.'
Next she phoned another construction son, "What are you having for lunch today?"
"Noodles," he replied.
"So, it's not a heavy lunch then?" Simmy asked.
"Nope," he replied.
"I'm making your favorite for dinner. See ya later."
"Oh, that's so mean. What is it?"
This time Simmy chuckled and hung up.
It worked out rather well that this construction son came home from work before Simmy got back from the grocery store so, even though he poked around the kitchen for a clue... a tin of tomato soup, a tin of tomato paste and pineapple draining on a plate just wasn't a solid tip-off.
After a strong work out at the gym, Simmy dragged home gobs of pizza fixings and a cube of instant yeast.
It didn't take very long and the dough was rising in the oven that had been brought to good 'proofer' temperature.
"Hey, I'm going to call married construction son and invite them for pizza," Simmy said.
She dialed and waited for him to pick up.
"Hello?"
"Hi, I'm making a large amount of pizza for dinner. Would you like to come over?"
"We just ate," he said with a tone of regret.
"What? Already?" Simmy looked at the clock.
"We eat as soon as we get home," he replied.
"It won't be done for an hour or so, you could eat again," Simmy suggested.
He seemed hesitant.
"You can change your mind if you like. I gotta go," Simmy hung up the phone.
"They didn't want to come for pizza?" Sam asked.
"I'll see if they want cinnamon buns. He didn't say that they had dessert," Simmy redialed.
"Cinnamon buns are dessert," she coaxed.
"We need more notice than this, Mom," he said with annoyance.
Simmy hung up and said to Sam, "Boy, they seem like old married folk already... can't do anything spontaneous. Sheesh!"
Sam started singing, "Sugar pie, honey bunch, you know that I love you, I can't help myself, I love you and nobody else..."
"In and out of our life... he comes and he goes, Every time we see his face, we get all choked up inside..."
Sam jumped in again with, "When you snap your finger, or wink your eye, I'm tied to your apron strings,..."
Simmy interrupted with, "...you're tied to my baking strings, you love that more than anything else..."
"Hey, that's not nice," he pouted. "Id do anything you ask me to..."
"Good, keep grating that cheese," Simmy said.
"Oh, oh, I'm out of icing sugar. I'll call Deborah and see if I can trade two warm cinnamon buns for two cups of icing sugar."
A minute later Simmy hung up the phone with the words, "Good trade!"
Construction son came up the stairs and said, "Ooh, those cinnamon buns are going to be sooo good slathered in white icing."
"You're lucky Deborah had some, in house, so I could trade her for warm cinnamon buns straight from the oven."
"Good trade," he said.
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