We did it!

Another night of celebrating the life of a saint at dinner.  Well, you don’t expect me to post about sex, do you?

I made baked potato mice for the feast of St. Martin de Porres.  No, they weren’t twice baked potatoes like the post in Catholic Cuisine.  We were too busy tonight to mash and reheat, even in the microwave.  And no, I didn’t get a picture.  Mainly because by the time I did all five, I needed to get them to the table before they were stone cold.

The reason I did the mice was because of the legend about St. Martin telling the mice that if they would promise not to eat the altar linens, he would promise to feed them and both parties kept their promise.  BooBoo even said: “In the garden?”.  He hadn’t even seen the picture in the post, but he remembered that today was the feast of St. Martin de Porres.  One kid down and one more to go.  Maybe some special bread for the feast of St. Elizabeth of Hungary will help Ditty along.

I’ll think about it.


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