It’s kinda nice when you reach a point in your life that spending Saturday night with your family is pleasant and relaxing. It’s the polar opposite of being a teenager, in which Saturday nights were about doing anything other than hanging out with your family and it most certainly wasn’t relaxing.

But now? When I’m at an age in which I have hair sprouting out of my ear canals and nostrils and little lines are beginning to trace around my eyes? A family-night is a nice night to have.

Especially when you live in a college town and it’s T-minus 60 minutes until St. Patrick’s day and no street is safe.


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