The kids got invited to a pizza party at California Pizza Kitchen. It's in the mall. It's not like the place specializes in gluten-free. I thought we were in trouble when the man on the phone said, "We have honey wheat. That's gluten-free, right?"

But they did not object to our bringing our own pizza crusts. Thanks to Grammy, we had them ready to go in our freezer.

Then I just had to watch that every surface the crust touched was clear. You know, it's a little nerve wracking when you realize the server doesn't speak much Spanish. This matters because the cook doesn't speak much English, and somehow the message "no flour" needs to get through.

It seems to have worked. Our biggest problem of the day was actually David's shyness. He freaked out and refused to tour the kitchen or even make his own pizza. As usual, after about an hour, he started having fun. Rose said the sauce was so/so, but she had a great time walking into the walk-in freezer, and she ate her whole pizza.