Every St. Patricks Day my family and I wake up to find that, once again, some wily Leprachaun has invaded our home. Damn fella always seems to have a hole in his pocket because every invasion leaves a slew of gold and green behind … coins, candy, even green milk.
I know my kids are too old to believe the tale of the Leprachaun that found the gold and used our house as his escape, only to reek havoc along the way (i.e. green footprints on the walls and ceiling), but I just can’t help but keep it going. I love traditions, even the ones that don’t make sense. I love the excitment of planning and preparing and secretly tip-toeing out in the middle of the night to transform the house into a magical bit o’ fun (note the Irish).
This year was no exception…okay, I left out the footprints…those take hours to make. The table is covered in green and gold, the treats are strewn about, and the corned beef is slowly cooking it’s way towards dinner. Irish or not, we will clebrate the day!