It just wouldn't be St. Patrick's Day if we didn't wear some thing green, talk about what percentage of our heritage is Irish, all of a sudden profess to drink Guiness beer every day if we could, and convince our selves that actually cooking cabbage was what God intended. However, for me it would also include a strike from the LIMERICKER.
I've blogged about this creature's before and her weird way with words. Well the LIMERICKER has struck again this year. Read below if you dare.
When toasting, the Irish say "Sláinte!"
A phrase that will certainly haunt ya
You raise Guinness to lips,
It goes straight to your hips,
And makes you develop a paunch -Yah!
And the LIMERICKER managed to write one about my son as well.
Gosh Jack, you are already two,
An age that some parents rue
But you're being so good
(As we knew that you would)
That we just cannot help but adore you.
Happy St. Patrick's Day!