'Twas The Night Before Lent

‘Twas the night before Lent, and all through my Catholic veins

Not a sacrifice was stirring, gluttony paraded down Flynn Lane

My vices were hung from the bar with sloppy care

In hopes that self control soon would be there

Huck was nestled all snug in his (my) bed

While visions of spring festivals danced in my head

I’d forfeited chocolate, sodas, four-lettered words in years past

But what about alcohol—for 40 days—could I last?

Oh Oysterfest! Oh St. Patty’s! Oh start of wedding season!

Oh soccer practice! Oh patio happy hour for no reason!

Surely not all wine, maybe just no chardonnay

But who in the La Crema was I kidding, no way no wine for 40 days

What about my other tasty friend, the very proof that God loves us: beer

The same frothy treat that spawned courage to Saran Wrap a sleeping Leah Logue sans fear

Surely not all beer, maybe just no more Belgian wheats

Who in the Newcastle was I kidding, no way would I not cheat

Now wait just a minute, a good Irish Catholic this mindset not make

As guilt settled in, brewskis mentally became a holy bet I could take

So, today I bid farewell to the liquid vice behind Freshman Fifteens

Goodbye Sweetwater, goodbye Shiner Bock, goodbye TAP post-work scene

Goodbye Coors, goodbye Blue Moon, goodbye Passport Club at Taco Mac

For 40 nights I shall dream about you, but on Easter Sunday I’ll be back

With nary a Fat Tire in the fridge, the coozies out of sight

Lenten cheers to all, Irish you a strong 40-day fight!