The way I see it, there's essentially two kinds of moms. The kind who bake shamrock sugar cookies and invite the neighborhood kids over to frost them and make dinner of all green food on St. Patricks Day, and those who don't. Which category would you like to guess that I am in? Well, normally you would be right. But not this time! Today I was one of the fun moms. Unfortunately I didn't remember that it was St. Patrick's Day until after I dropped Drew off at school wearing blue and brown. So really, I'm not so much cool as repentant; trying to find a way to make it up to my 7-year-old boy who was likely pinched and harrassed all day long. So we did all of the above, complete with a dinner of sugar snap peas, granny smith apples, pears, kiwi, green salad, and guacamole.
During dinner he had several questions, all of them ending the same way: Who is St. Patrick, me laddie? Are we celebrating his birthday, me laddie? How old is he, me laddie? Why does everyone wear green on his birthday, me laddie? And why do you get pinched if you don't, me laddie? And then it occurred to me, that in 37 years on this earth, thousands of dollars in college tuition later, I had no idea who St. Patrick even was let alone why we went through all this trouble. So I answered the only way I knew how, "I don't know. Finish your kiwi."