St. Patty's day has always been near and dear to my heart. I love being Irish. I do. I think that being Irish is just about the best thing that anyone could be... and I am Irish.... I mean, I am really really Irish...
But... because I married someone with a non-Irish last name, no one realizes that I am one of the Chosen people of God.
No one knows just how Irish I am. Curiously, this really pisses me off.
Before I was married I had the greatest last name in the world. I mean, it was so great and so Irish that other Irish people were jealous of me.
But now I have a German last name and am married to a half-German, half-Puerto Rican man. How do things like this happen? My husband would have made a great Irishman... and I believe that he wants nothing more out of life than to be able to join our family and be just as Irish as we are.
But he isn't... and he gave me a German last name.
You know, come to think of it, maybe he would not have made a great Irishman. Let's look at the facts shall we?
Unable to refuse alcohol
Thinks I know it all
Thinks I am superior
Drinks like a fish on Saturday but is always at Mass on Sunday
Says things like "Jesus Mary and Joseph" when I find something ridiculous.
I don't cuss... unless you consider the word "fook" a curse word.
Takes other people's opinions into consideration
Thinks all men are equal
Drinks responsibly on Saturday and gets me out of bed for Mass every Sunday
Says things in some crazy mixed up language (Spanish) when he finds something ridiculous.
He cusses... but again, it is in some language that I do not understand.
God Bless him... but he would be kicked out of Ireland if he requested citizenship.
My children on the other hand are just as proud of their Irish heritage as I am. I have taught them well, and although they may or may not be able to get more financial assistance if they check the "Hispanic" box on their college applications (because after all, they are Quarter-Ricans) I still want to make sure they know that they are more Irish than anything else.
They are part of the Chosen Ones.
But TODAY... everyone is Irish. That is right, even my German/Puerto Rican husband. So go out and have some green beer (I will be drinking regular beer thank you very much-only non Irish people drink green beer. pfft.) If you really want to be Irish, get yourself in a fight at the pub because someone may have possibly made a reference to what you think may be an insult to your dear Mother. God Bless her.
And then wake up tomorrow morning and drag yourself into confession.
Yes, I know that I posted this video last year on St. Paddy's day... but it just makes me laugh my arse off each time I see it. It is like a window into my childhood.
God Bless the Irish
God Bless me Irish Mother and Da
God Bless me Irish children
God Bless me non-Irish husband... sigh.