Mom wrote this poem when she was not quite 23 about a happy little man who made so many noodles the floor fell through... We ran across it the other day and had such a good laugh, I had to pass it on. A little
bit of a stretch from the usual theme of this blog, but I couldn't resist sharing something so cute with you :) !
This man named Albert Noodle-DropMade pasta at his store.It made no difference what was bought,Big Al kept cooking more!He used to live on second floor,making pasta; it is true...His name was spelled without the 'drop'Until the floor fell through!
