Redux! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

*Normally my family is crazy about Saint Patrick's Day, but this year we all have to work. So I thought I would repost my super awesome journey from last year. Enjoy!


Song playing: Siúil a Rúin by Celtic Women

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day everyone! I hope you’re having a good day, whether you’re doing anything festive or not.



I am preparing to enter the trenches of my parent’s house and running down the checklist.

Shirt? Green with “Kiss Me I’m Irish” on it. Check.
Pants? Green. Check.
Socks? Green. Check.
Unmentionables? Green. Check.
Earrings? Green shamrocks. Check.
Eye shadow and eyeliner? Green. Double check.
Eyes? Blue. Cursed Mother Nature.
Hair? Still brown. I didn’t dye it green because I have a job where they frown upon unnatural hair color. Cursed job (and don’t bother mentioning those “one time color” dyes, because they NEVER “just” wash out.)
Skin? Green with envy. Ka-zing! (these are the jokes, kids.) Just kidding. Still pasty white with freckles. Check (I suppose).



Why the obsessive need to cover myself in green today? Well, in my family we take Saint Patrick’s Day seriously. I have been pinched before because I only wore green earrings, and my brother claimed to “not see them.” Anyone caught outside of their room without green on was subject to pinches. One year I went into my little brother’s room before he woke up just so I could pinch him for not wearing green. The little devil went to sleep in green sleep pants the night before! Foiled again!

Now that I live elsewhere, I am a little safer, but not completely off the hook until I arrive at my parent’s house. My little brother stopped by this morning and his greeting to me was, “Damn. You’re already wearing green, I was going to pinch you.” That’s right little brother. I didn’t get to be the older sister for nothing (actually I did, I was just born first (even before my twin! I am the oldest one in the family by a few seconds! (Mom had a C-section)) but don’t tell him that).

Now that we’re all adults you’d think we’d be more mature about the whole thing, but you would be sorely mistaken. Literally sore, from all the pinches you would receive.



So I am off to chronicle the strange events of my parent’s house. I shall return with a full report, from deep in the trenches, and hopefully hilarious pictures, because I am pretty sure they started drinking already (I personally don’t drink so all the more fun for me).

The pictures, by the way, are of the Chicago river, as Michael so astutely pointed out in the comments section of yesterday’s post. We have a lot of fun in the comments section, you should join us. It’s like a party, and we’re all invited.