Wherein some young boys learned to hate lawyers.

So we have been terrible bloggers lately.  To anyone who still checks the blog, sorry about that.  But here's one anecdote from this week I wanted to share.

On Thursday we had our employee's association summer party.  They have a drawing, and this year I won a large beach umbrella.  While we were happy to win, we couldn't figure when we'd really use it.

As I was up collecting my prize, one of the detectives was also getting his - a pizza stone made for a grill.  As we engaged in small talk, I offhandedly and in almost complete jest suggested that we trade.  I started to walk away when his wife stopped me and said she would really like to make that trade.

This detective has three or four sons, and they started wailing and begging their parents not to make the trade.  "Dad, it's a pizza!  A pizza!"  And, "Mom, don't do it, please, please don't do it!"  Just a couple of examples.  I mean they were pleading with them to keep the stone.

Being a black-hearted barrister and having found a willing victim, we made the trade in spite of the intra-familial conflict.  I heard their boys protesting all the way to the parking lot.

Anyway, tonight we had our first stone grilled pizza.  We made out like bandits.  It was super tasty.  So tasty that I only feel slightly guilty about depriving those boys of the pleasure.  :-)