I think I have a brilliant idea!
I'm certain I have discovered a unique franchising opportunity and I'm willing to let you in on the ground floor.
I am stuck at home for the afternoon babysitting pizza dough.
I am now a dough-sitter!
Late, late last night the phone rang and even though the caller ID didn't say "Mesa Police Department" I still suspected the worse. However, it was only our neighbor, in a tizzy, saying "will you be home tomorrow afternoon? Could you babysit my pizza dough?" to which I replied "huh?" to which she replied "well, it will just explode out of the bowl if it is not punched down about every 15 minutes" to which I replied "ummm...sooooo... umm...sure...I think."
She then went on to explain that since they have a gas-fired pizza oven in their kitchen she had planned to make home-made pizzas to impress her daughter's new boyfriends family with. After she extended the invitation she remembered a previous obligation and was now stuck with making pizzas but she needed help with the dough. And, hey, what are good neighbors for anyway! Right? So, of course, I said yes to watching her "exploding" pizza dough.
Mid-afternoon one of her sons brought over the pizza dough. It was in the largest Tupperware bowl with a lid I have ever seen. The son, very seriously, warned me "you have to keep hitting this dough down or it will explode out of the bowl."
And neither one of them lied.
I cannot leave the bowl for more then 10 minutes, because the lid pops off and the dough explodes everywhere. This is some seriously high-maintenance yeast dough.
My husband wanted to go for a ride in the Jeepster but I told him I couldn't go because I am dough-sitting. I am totally taking my responsibilities quite seriously.
He actually looked kind of annoyed with me. Can you believe that?
I was going to suggest we take the bowl of dough with us but I suspect he wouldn't really like the potential of exploding flour and yeast in his old car.
And more importantly, I'm not sure if the bowl would be even safe. There are no seatbelts or airbags in that old car.
So I am tied to the bowl of dough. Watching it. Punching it down.
This is lovely, lovely dough. So beautiful and smooth and elastic and yummy smelling. And I'm not just saying that because I've become attached to it over the last several hours.
And now I'm thinking since I've been kinda/sorta feeling a bit lost for a few years with the whole empty-nest-depression-my-life-has-no-purpose thing, that perhaps this could be my new direction in life.
Because for the moment I feel like I have a purpose.
So I'm seriously considering starting a dough day care. What do you think?
Are you interested in a franchise?
Listen...I can't talk anymore about this right now because the dough is feeling neglected so I gotta run.
But, really, think about it!!!!!
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