When Irish Knees are Dancing...

Happy St. Patrick's Day to yer...

In honor of being Irish on such an auspicious day I shall now dance a jig...

(ok.  Here we go!)

(get ready)

Would someone please start the music?!

(Alrighty then...)

(oh now wait.  Not that song!)

(why are Irish songs so darned sad?)

(The potato blight?)

(The constant oppression from the British?)

(The fact that we all had to shorten the spellings of our last names and my family had to drop the O that preceded it when we immigrated to America?

(or that most Irish were not well liked in the America's?)

(don't get me started...)

(ahem...)

Now for my real traditional Irish jig!

(dah dah de dum...)

(oof...this jigging thing is not that easy...)

(working up a sweat here...)

(oh dang.  My knee really hurts.)

(that's what you get for being sick with something or other close to a month and a half...the inability to just dance an impromptu jig because you haven't been able to attend the gym...)

Drat.

Perhaps I will just have some traditional Irish food...like, um...potatoes!

You know?

I'm not to sure about being this Irish thing.  I mean, I have the last name and the red hair (although, if you must know, I'm actually a blond) and the lineage...but honestly?  I've never actually been to The Mother Land, and the only real Irish tradition I remember my family taking part in is my grandfather baking and eating black-eyed-peas on New Years Eve for good luck.  There may be more, but I don't remember ever spending a St. Patrick's Day doing anything traditional like eating Lucky Charms.

(my mother didn't like us to have sugary cereal for breakfast...which may explain why mostly I don't like pastries in the morning)

I guess I'll have to stick to washing with Irish Spring and singing Oh Danny Boy in the shower...and since I already bathed, you totally missed out on that.

Sorry.

Happy St. Patrick's Day anyway.