GROWING UP "IRISH"

I have been known to conduct some very important hands-on research every year on one of the most important dates of the calendar year - March 17th. 

Of course, as the youngest child in a third generation Irish family, you could say this research has been underway my whole life. 

Every St. Patrick's Day our mother insisted we wear something green since it is the one day out of the year when the Irish are (officially) in charge of the world! 

Unfortunately, it is also the one day out of the year when EVERYONE gets to be Irish and our Wearing of the Green made us indistinguishable from the Polish, Ukrainian and Italian kids who were also "Irish" for the day. In the end, we just ended up looking like a bunch of Canadians that matched.

Our father's Irish spirit was constantly present in his twinkling green eyes and fighting Irish ways and it inspired us to approach daily life in a similar fashion. 

This worked out quite well for our brothers in the game of hockey, but it led to a rather ugly incident for my sister and me at Charm Camp. I will spare you the gory details but let's just say it involved a dispute over 2 salad forks and a fish knife that left us slightly less charming than when we first arrived at camp.

I happened to have had the good fortune to spend one St. Patrick's Day in an Irish pub in London, England where I learned Irish mothers take the Wearing of the Green quite literally. They send clumps of fresh shamrocks pulled straight from the Irish soil over to their sons and daughters.

By the end of the evening, the shamrocks have wilted and the soil has loosened and fallen straight into pints of Guinness, which nobody notices because they both taste like dirt.

Although I have never had the pleasure of being in Boston on St. Patrick's Day, everyone knows Irish Americans go all out on this most blessed day. 

They stage huge parades complete with elaborately decorated Irish-themed floats and fill the pubs and pints to the brim. Then they give Ireland's national sport of hurling a completely new meaning.

I suppose this is one thing almost everyone who celebrates St. Patrick's Day has in common. They drink - to Patrick - a Saint. 

Based on the amount of alcohol consumed in his honour, I think we can safely conclude he is the most beloved of all the Saints. 

And to be fair, I think even St. Patrick himself would have a drink on his own day. I can almost hear him say..." well, maybe just one..."

Here's to growing up Irish...Slainte. 

And the Tradition Continues...
My daughter Maeve was 11 years old when she drew this hilarious account (zero bias), of how St. Patrick (No. 17) really drove the snakes out of Ireland with his bad jokes.



Recommended Reading: How The Irish Saved Civilization by Thomas Cahill

Recommended Listening: The Long Black Veil  by the Chieftans

Recommended Viewing: The Matchmaker (real Irish accents and some real witty banter too)