I am going to go full American on you for a minute. Or two. Bear with me. But it’s Saint Patrick’s Day today. And with 32.3 million¹ self-proclaimed Irish-Americans, myself included, it’s a fun day to do so. That’s 1 in 10 Americans people. But wait. Isn’t St. Patrick’s Day Irish? Like from IRELAND. Yes. Yes. It is. Did you see what I did there? Claimed it for my own? Pretty American eh? Hang on. Don’t be offended yet. Let me explain. I have learned a few things living abroad.
Growing up, Saint Patrick’s Day was a pretty big deal in our family. My given name is Erin Kathleen. Kind of Irish. My brother is Michael Shannon and my other brother is Colin Patrick. We had an Irish Setter named “Paddy” growing up. And as cliche, groan-worthy, or just downright confusing as it may sound to actual Irish people, every year on March 17th my mom made corned beef and cabbage, soda bread, and a side of green jello salad. I now know how Irish-American that meal is. Especially the lime jello. There was nothing grown from the earth in that “salad,” just saying. My own children made leprechaun traps at school and my sister-in-law puts green food coloring in the toilet as “evidence” of their sneaky appearance overnight. Think of it as the “Elf on the Shelf” of March. Thanks, Pinterest. March 17th is a big day. To us Irish-Americans. “Kiss me, I’m Irish.” Continue reading “Happy St. Patrick’s Day from this American Mutt”