Three pieces of pizza were left in the box in the middle of the table. It was one of those Sunday nights no one wanted to end and we prolonged the day as long as we could around pizza, laughter and memories. When the four of us were out of things to say we turned to the pizza in the middle. I don’t really like chicken garlic, I stated. Me neither, my younger sister confirmed. I actually just like the cheese kind, the older one said. So then why do we always get chicken garlic? Just imagine all the money we could of saved by getting the cheese and pepperoni one. Then we turned to our brother-in-law and asked what kind he likes and that’s when he proved once again how much cooler and smarter he is than all of us sisters put together. Picking up the last slice of pizza he looked at it and said with elegance, “I try to find something beautiful in every piece.” Oh Vitaly, we never question your inner chef, and your ability to have the last word on everything. We laughed long into the night about that one, quoting Ratatouille and what not, and reveling in the fun of Sundays, volleyball, and of course family.