Breaking up is hard to do, especially with someone so hot.

Sorry Pizza, But I’m Breaking Up With You

Hey Pizza, come here, we need to talk.

Listen, we’ve had a good run, but I really need some space. About 8 years ago when my kids were preschoolers you started showing up in my life on a regular basis. Back then, I was always happy to see you. You brought me comfort and made my life easier in so many ways. You were there for me on every occasion, whether it be a birthday party, a trip to the mall or a school event; you never disappointed me. We grew closer and I enjoyed our time together.

But then, let’s admit it, Pizza, things started to get weird.

You began showing up at every party, every football game, and every picnic I attended. Sometimes you looked different but I always knew it was you. You often had your wingman with you (chicken nugget platter), but you never needed him to catch my attention with your cheesy charm and good looks.

For a while I had everything under control. It started with a few quickies; half a slice here and there, a few nibbles when nobody was looking. It was usually all we had time for and it seemed harmless and innocent.

As time went on, I started to depend on you. You pushed your way into every event and I couldn’t resist you. Yes, at the time it was fun; you were hot, no doubt about it, and you always smelled great . . . but no matter how wonderful our time was together I always regretted having you the next day. To be honest, there were times when I felt like I was using you. You were a quick fix, a way to avoid reality (ok, dinner). I tried to elude you, but you began hanging around my kids’ baseball and soccer games, the pool, the fair, the zoo . . . everywhere I looked, you were there. I even saw you at church one time.

Soon you were showing up at my house every Friday night and we began meeting twice, even three times a week. Things began to escalate as you tempted me with your promises of extra sausage whenever I asked for it. You started to scare me, and quite frankly, we took it too far. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I feel like I need to end this unhealthy relationship once and for all.

Please know that I’ll always have feelings for you, and I’ll look back on our time together fondly, but it’s over. I’m closing the box on this relationship.


(Frazzled Suburban Mom Who Can’t Button Her Skinny Jeans)

This original piece by Stacy Graebner was written exclusively for In the Powder Rooma division of Hold My Purse Productions, LLC. Featured image ©

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Stacy Graebner is a freelance marketing researcher, a freelance writer and a freelance mom. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and 2 kids who like to remind her that (despite being the same age), she looks a lot older than J.LO. Connect with her on Twitter @sdgraebner.

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