But back to why a person would need to rescue pizza. All that has to happen is to put the timer on for a little too long, and then wonder why there is smoke coming out of the oven. At that point Bonnie choose an expletive I am not familiar with – well, I know it, it is just not one I choose to use. Knowing that there would be no divine intervention, even if she was calling for some, I leaped in to skim the blistered cheese topping off of pizza, -- using a long knife and the bare tips of my fingers. I then cut off the burned crusts and hoped for things to cool enough that David wouldn’t notice. Sprinkling a little more shredded Parmesan on the pizza was easy, since it was still hot enough to melt it and had the damage I had done to the top of the product. And the rescue, part II, involved slicing off the bottom crust, something Bonnie took on. By now we just about had a new product … one that David would eat. And we felt good about rescuing what initially looked to be a lost cause, a project instead of doing Christmas baking.