‘Twas the night before Lent, and all through my Catholic veins
Not a sacrifice was stirring, gluttony paraded down
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
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!