Tonight, I read 'Twas the Night Before Saint Marty's Day to my son. My wife bought a couple Saint Marty's Day cheese balls. I hate cheese balls, but it's festive.
My kids are asleep, with visions of Milk Duds dancing in their heads. Mamma in her nightgown and I in my flannels are ready to settle down for a very short nap.
Saint Marty is getting all tingly inside, but that could be the burrito he had for dinner.
|cheese should not be round|