“Putting away groceries & making overnight French toast for breakfast tomorrow!”

Oh boy. Here’s another tradition in the McNeill manor. Saturday morning they always have a knock-down, drag-out, kick-ass breakfast. Its exhausting. My dad will make biscuits from scratch. Not like Bojangles says their biscuits are from scratch. I’m talking flour, buttermilk, butter—lots of butter. Sidenote: the look my father gets on his face when applying butter to his corn-on-the-cob or a biscuit is akin to the look of that kid in A Christmas Story finally holding that BB gun.

Anyway, they made overnight french toast. Their breakfast is so involved, they make it overnight.