I know we have another week before St. Patrick’s Day. But I am so anxious for warmth and Easter, I’m writing about the green day, today. I also wanted to remind you to buy your green construction paper.
My younger sister, Debbie, married an Irish man. She’s been married for 25 years, so I’ve heard about many St Patrick Day celebrations.
They’d have decorating contests and parades. They’d all dress in green and have professional family pictures taken.
Debbie told me they’d cook green pancakes, make green milk shakes, have treasure hunts, and adorn their houses with little green lights.
Now, this is serious business for Debbie’s family . . . as it is for the Irish in Chicago. They even die the Chicago River green!
At any rate, we all celebrate St. Patrick’s Day on March 17. I’m not Irish but if celebrating the day, will get me off work; I’ll wear green and dance a jig.
Seriously, the best part of holidays was my children. When they were in elementary school, they looked forward to March 17 and wearing green. I recall the exact moment when they left for school. They’d smile, run up and pinch me, and race out the door. Why . . . because I didn’t own a green night gown.
As the toddlers watched (and there were plenty of toddlers around my house with seven kids), one would simply touch my arm or leg and then run. I’d yell, “Oh, don’t pinch me!” They’d giggle, as they ran away.
It’s funny how little ones model everything their older siblings do.
Holidays were my favorite times, as a mom. Even though we had a tight budget, a little Leprechaun dropped in every year.
Regardless of the small bank account, I tried to be creative with construction paper.
As I’ve shared before, I cut a couple hundred little green feet out of construction paper. The feet were about three inches long.
The night before St. Paddy’s Day, I’d tape those little paper feet all over the house. Then the kids would think a Leprechaun had visited.
The next morning, the kids jumped out of bed and seeing green feet everywhere ... on the bathroom mirror, kitchen cabinets, living room floor, windows . . . they’d run the house wild, searching for the pot of gold.
Yes, they’d love St. Patrick’s Day. Because, at the end of those little green feet, they would find a pot of goodies ... something they even talk about today, as 20 and 30 year olds.
You know, cutting green feet and the pot of gold was worth every minute. They received a few pieces of candy.
But I was given a memory of happy faces, something, which I will remember for the rest of my life.
