How Pizza Changed My Life Forever (revised)

Jonathan Lung

Ms. Li

ENG 101-005

9 September 2016

How Pizza Changed My Life Forever

            December 24^st, 1999 is the day I was introduced to pizza. Who knew that a juicy pizza filled with melted cheese and crunchy pepperoni would convince a picky baby to finally give up his fasting?

            About a year before that life-changing day, my mother was trying to figure out ways to get me to eat. She would go to the store after work and buy one of every type of baby food that was available. Much to my mother’s dismay, I would not eat any of them. No matter how hard she tried to convince me that sweet potatoes or sweet peas were good, I would either shake my head in disgust or spit out the food. This war would continue every day and night.

            Everyday, my parents would get more worried watching me not eat anything. Every doctor visit always ended with the same conversation: “Don’t worry he will be fine. He will find something he likes to eat.” My parent was still unconvinced and continued to find more innovative ways to get me to start eating, again to no avail.

            Christmas season finally arrived. They were getting ready to go to Atlanta to visit my sister as a Christmas surprise. It was around 8 o’clock at night on Christmas Eve when my parents left the little town of Meridian. Driving from Meridian, Mississippi to Atlanta is about a four to five hours drive.

            My parents drove for about four hours before they had to stop by a gas station to pick up more gas and food. Right as they pull up to a Shell gas station, I woke up from my hibernation to my parent’s astonishment. They decided to bring me inside so I could get some fresh air. As if God had timed it just right, Hunt Brothers pizza had just finished cooking a small pepperoni pizza and set it on the heating rack. My parents were hungry so they decided to buy two of the pizzas. Each pizza was the size of a small Frisbee divided into four slices.

            After my mom brought the pizza and me back to the car, my dad finished pumping gas and was leaving the gas station when I famously cried out, “I’m hungry.” In that moment of joy, my mom opened up the pizza box and gave it to me to see if I would eat it. It did not take long for me to finish both boxes of pizza that night. In fact, I told my parents I wanted more; it was the best Christmas miracle they had ever experienced. And, to top it off, it had just struck 12 o’clock midnight, signaling Christmas day was here.

            Pizza became my staple food, devouring nothing but pizza for the next several years. Pizza was my lifesaver and my parent’s stress reliever. I remember walking with my mother to a Little Caesar to buy the kid’s pizza. Those were some of my fondest memories. To this day, I still cannot refuse a good pizza with the perfectly cooked cheese and perfectly crispy pepperoni.