When my younger brother was in high school, he did a sculpture of my older son (then just a toddler) for his art class. Eventually, he passed it on to us. Normally the bald-headed baby sits buried in a closet, but every now and then it rears its head (ha), appearing unexpectedly on someone’s pillow or as a prop for some imagined play. Lately, it’s taken up residence on my older son’s dresser.

Last week, my younger kids set the bust on a stool, plopped a wig, sunglasses, and headphones on his bald head, and turned him into a punk-rock chorister, Christmas caroler, or something.

Then they moved on to some other game and left the bust standing in the middle of the floor. When my older son walked into his room a few hours later, his marbled mini-me gave him quite a start.

That evening while my older son was at his EMT class and the rest of us were downstairs, my older daughter went upstairs to get a shower. A couple seconds later, we heard an ear-splitting scream, followed by running footsteps and loud gasping breaths.

Ha, I thought. She must have found the bust.

But then I realized the gasps weren’t laughter, but racking sobs. What in the world? Had my son crossed the line and created some grisly scene? I tore upstairs, pissed off in advance. At the top, my daughter was wailing, hands over her face, shoulders heaving.

“The shower,” she sobbed. “Behind the curtain.”

I gave her a quick hug before stomping down the hall to investigate. Senses tingling, I pulled aside the shower curtain.

Oh  good grief. No wonder! Not one bit grisly, sure, but deeply disturbing nonetheless. The statue was terrifying in its innocence. How perfectly, delightfully creepy.

Back to my daughter I went. I wrapped my arms around her, buried my face in her hair, and exploded with laughter.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing.” I could barely choke out the words. “But, oh, honey, he got you good.”

My daughter cried for another couple minutes, but then her shoulders started to tremble—her sobs were turning to giggles.

“I thought it was an alien and it was going to kill me!”

The bust has now been relocated to our bedroom floor and the children have been strictly forbidden from playing with it. My son’s creativity may have been highly entertaining once, but I think that was enough trauma-humor to last us a good while.

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (2.2.15), wheat berry salad, and moldy beans.

This same time, years previous: sour cream and berry baked oatmeal, stuck buttons and frozen pipes, lemon creams, how we got our house, taco seasoning mix, homemade mayonnaise, rock-my-world cocoa brownies, orange-cranberry biscotti, and curried lentils.

I was wrong. Turns out, these tortilla pizzas are unique and fabulous, and it’s all because of the two-step process: first on the stove top and then under the broiler. This method creates a crispy-thin crust that’s still chewy and pliable and a bubbly, golden brown, cheesy top. Pizza perfection in five minutes flat.

Even though these pizzas are a snap to make, if you’re feeding a small herd of people as I usually am, the process can get a little tedious. Like pancakes and grilled cheese, the process is not complicated, but you can’t leave your station. To speed the process, I use two skillets: while one pizza is being assembled, the other is broiling.

When I served these for supper the other night, the family went wild. A few days later, I made them again for lunch and got the same reaction. My kids usually eat two pizzas each, though my older son and husband can put away three or more in a sitting.

Crispy Pan Pizzas
With inspiration from Julie of Dinner With Julie.

In the photos above, I used a mixture of fresh mozzarella and grated, plus my homemade pepperoni (that the kids like better than the bought stuff!). I was rushing, so the pizzas aren’t quite as brown as they should be.

large flour tortillas
olive oil
pizza sauce
mozzarella cheese
topping of your choice: pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, black olives, pesto, etc.

Set a cast iron skillet over a burner set to medium heat. Lightly brush the skillet with olive oil and smack in a tortilla. Smear the tortilla with pizza sauce, sprinkle it with cheese, and add your toppings. As soon as the bottom of the tortilla is golden brown—and you want to make sure it really is golden brown all over because this is what gives the pizza its structure and crunch—pop the skillet under the broiler for a couple minutes. Once the cheese is bubbling and brown, and the tortilla edges have crisped up nicely, the pizza is done. Slip the pizza onto a plate, slice it into wedges, and serve.

This same time, years previous: keep everlastingly at it, the quotidian (1.27.14), swimming in the sunshine, Friday evening fun, down again, Gretchen’s green chili, to meet you, and ode to the titty fairy.