Topher Knows Best

Friday is almost always pizza night at our house. Tonight I made four pizzas over the course of an hour in a 500 degree oven on a 90 degree day with no AC. I know, I'm ridiculous (and yes, we've emailed the landlord about the AC), but it's really hard to go back to frozen pizza after making it from scratch. It's a little like eating sadness.

I'd been standing and working in the super hot kitchen for a while. The last pizza was in the oven, almost ready to come out. I opened the oven a crack to check and was met with a cloud of hot air. I shut the door, stepped back, and said, "Whew."

Topher was sitting in his highchair a few feet away. When I spoke he turned and said, "What?"

"The pizza is really hot," I explained.

He tipped his head slightly forward and to the side, gave me a you-know-how-to-solve-this look, and said, "Coo it down." Then he acted like he was blowing on hot food.