Tonight, There Will be Pizza.

Soon after these words are written, we will take out frozen pizza boxes hand selected from the finest freezers in Publix. In the throes of culinary intensity, we will choose between baking or microwaving.

I am feeling fancy. Crank that oven to 425 degrees, baby, and chop up the toppings with the best sell-by date. We will eat while marveling at majestic meals designed for two working parents who complete each other’s sentences at 4pm each day: “So, what are we doing for…”

“Dinner? No clue.”

After we pop that pie in the oven, we will prop our feet up and watch videos about healthy food starring cuisine guru Flavor Flav.

Wait. I screwed that up. Flavor Flav is a rapper who wears a Viking helmet and bellows “Yeah, boyeeee.” The culinary guy is Bobby Parrish, who hosts FlavCity, which–because I am not paying attention–I call Bobby Flav, who does not rap or wear wall clocks as jewelry. As far as I know.

Point is, my wife loves Bobby’s FlavCity shows, which prompt us to eat better and read labels and know the difference between “added sugars” and “carbs of the wicked.”

Parrish is a funny, smart and practical nutrition expert who knows the difference between healthy food and processed products, better known as stuff that actually tastes good. His internet videos are wildly popular.

I have adjusted shopping lists based on his advice and sometimes wonder, “What would Bobby Flav think of my cheese-lard butter crackers?”

Before I continue, some caveats:

On most occasions, we prepare healthy meals. My wife, Amy, is an amazing cook. And I have been known to make things that are not condemned by the surgeon general.

As God is my witness, there are avocados in our refrigerator. They are near the carrots, which may or may not have age sprouts festering like acne.

We eat healthy. We read labels, grouse about sugar and picture our brittle innards being pickled by sodium.

But life gets in the way.

I am a Zombie Snacker; I wake up in the wee hours, amble to the kitchen and shovel sacks of poly-something-saturated sodium into my piehole. There is no good judgment at 2am, no Bobby Flav on my shoulder whispering, “The acne carrot is still edible.”

With all that said, I offer the following pearls of wisdom:

Watch FlavCity on the web. Good stuff. Entertaining and informative.

If you are a Zombie Snacker, hire a goon to thwack you upside the head during 2am pantry raids.

Don’t sweat pizza nights. We are humans with schedules and kids and barking dogs. The heart wants what the heart wants.

I have antioxidants on my mind and peanut butter on my breath. I have very little to offer other than listen to smart people, shop carefully and embrace pizza night.

With that, our pizza is now ready. Yeah, boyeeee!!

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