A lone piece of pizza taunted me from the cardboard box. A perfect triangle of hot and greasy heaven—mozzarella browned just so. I sidestepped the mouth-watering heap of cheese and pepperoni and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl. “Hey,” I yelled to the kids. “Someone come eat this pizza!” No one came. I peeled the banana, shoved it in my mouth, and waited a minute or two for the sound of pounding footsteps on the stairs. The only sound came from my nails as I clicked them against the white Formica countertop, inches from the pizza box. I wandered around the kitchen, gliding past that last slice of pizza…