Tag Archives: st. patrick’s day

For St. Patty’s, Let’s Make the Kindergartners Cry!

I get too involved. It’s a fact. In the midst of everything but the kitchen sink coming at me personally and at work, I decided I should plan Sally’s kindergarten class St. Patrick’s Day activity. This was a busy week for their class, too, so I kept it simple–for them. I, however, spent three hours creating the perfect leprechaun shenanigan!

Which brings us to 1:30 p.m. in a room filled with shorty chairs. First, I very craftily showed the kids my decoy cupcake:

decoy plain cupcake

Don’t those look boring? Exactly! But I played them up: “Oh Thanks GOODNESS, the cupcakes are okay. I was checking on them ALL DAY hoping the leprechauns wouldn’t play any tricks on me. Let’s read a story and then we’ll eat.”

The kids sit in their spots on the rug, and I take the stool in the center, which I highly recommend if you ever need a power trip. Sally, as practiced, tells everyone the title of the book: Clever Tom and the Leprechaun. (It should be pointed out that I paid $23 for a used copy of this out-of-print floppy little book because it’s supposed to be the greatest leprechaun tale of all time or something. It IS cute. It also basically ruined my day.)

My first clue was the child who whimpered, “But I don’t like leper-cons.” I patted his head (Figuratively. I don’t know where those kids have been.) and assured him this story was not at all scary. I read the book, complete with terrible Irish accent that the teacher kindly pretended not to notice. Then it was time for our boring old cupcakes.

But wait! Did anyone see a Leper or a Con come in here while we were reading? Because . . . our cupcakes have turned . . . RAINBOW! I am the BEST MOM EVER! Let the elation commence!

awesome rainbow cupcakesEleven children appear amused if not ecstatic, and begin crafting their leprechaun sneakiness theories.

And two. Two burst into tears. It seems leprechauns are terrifying creatures who might destroy all of humanity with their hanky panky.  So I declare the obvious: “No, no, you don’t need to be worried, it’s FUN! THE LEPRECHAUNS TURNED OUR CUPCAKES RAINBOW FOR PETE’S SAKE!”

The Two set off several more who decide they, too, are scared. But these kids are quick to accept sugary treats that have clearly been tampered with by someone with questionable ethics. They calm down and eat. The Two, however, are still crying. I pat them on the backs (literally this time, risking lice) and reassure them that the cupcakes are harmless. When they cry harder, I give up. Empathy is not my thing. Besides, now I’m worried their parents are going to egg my house for introducing their kids to some heathen character. Maybe I’ve really done something wrong! At our house the leprechauns attack with vengeance every year, turning the milk green, messing stuff up. It never occurred to me this might be scary. Oh wait — because IT’S NOT. What is wrong with these kids?

Deflated, I cleaned up rainbow crumbs and took Sally home. “Hey Mommy, you know B, who was crying? His dad is a minister!”

Awh, crap.


Leprechauns: Another way to ensure your child will need therapy

Yesterday evening we went to the park to try and work off some St. Patrick’s Day overstimulation. Sally saw some older kids, ranging from about 7 to 10 years old, trying to dig a hole to China. After she stared at them long enough, they said hello and briefly took notice of her small Dora the Explorer doll.

Sally: “Yeah, this is my Dora doll. The leprechauns brought it to me, I think probably because I’m doing such a great job in school. They also ate the banana and left the peel on the doorknob, by the green sparkles on the plate, and they turned the milk green AGAIN and stacked up all the pillows crazy, and I think I heard them when I was sleeping, and I got some chocolate coins and this doll, and they took the house I made for them and left a note from the leprechauns and she was 427 years old and her husband was really wanting a new house so it’s nice that I did that, I didn’t want to trap them because I decided that wasn’t very nice, they came to my classroom and messed it up and we had frog cake that my mom and I made, it’s green.”

Me: *Please, big kids, don’t ruin it, don’t ruin it, don’t ruin it….*


Sally: . . . “Yep. It was pretty cool.” [Skips off into the sunset]

The Leprechauns Cleaned Our House

Sally hates our cleaning people. Yes, I have cleaning people–how else do you expect me to keep up this blog thing and watch all the TV? They come every two weeks and take care of things that make Mommies sad–such as mopping the unidentified sticky spot off my kitchen floor that No, I am not taking care of today because the cleaning people are coming tomorrow.

I love these women enough that I would harbor any illegal immigrant relatives they need to stash. But Sally despises their visits. When we come home from work and daycare on Cleaning People Days, it goes a little something like this:

Sally: “What is that smell?!”

Me: “It’s the smell of heaven, which is very sanitary.”

Sally: “It smells yucky. It smells like cleaning people. HEY! WHO moved my stuff?!”

And then she stomps around the living room moving toys back to whatever spot she thinks they belong in, shifting pillows, muttering about people ruining her life. I just go to the kitchen and lick the floor for a while.

Seemingly unrelated to this is the fact that every year, leprechauns come to our house on St. Patrick’s Day. They do sneaky things like turn our milk green and flip chairs over. Even as a 1-year-old Sally would think it amusing for a minute, then go about straightening things up. You just can’t mess with the girl’s stuff. So when I realized our cleaning and St. Patty’s Day planets align this year, I said maybe the leprechauns would come with the cleaning people to clean our house.

I may as well have suggested we celebrate birthdays with lots of leafy green vegetables.

No sooner had the look of disgust crossed her face then she had a moment of brilliance. “Let’s trap them!” I thought she meant the cleaning people and wondered if I was raising a little Dexter. We cleared that up and crafted a lovely leprechaun box trap (my first), securing highly valuable copper-plated zinc American currency to the trip. I keep trying to explain that those leprechauns are very tricky and they often escape traps, leaving a treat instead. Sally will have none of that. “They will not escape MY trap. They will get stuck forever and I will tell them they CAN NEVER GET OUT!”

Isn’t she sweet?

So come St. Patrick’s Day morning, the leprechauns will have visited once again. Well, I assume. How would I know? I’m just a loving mother who would never move her kid’s toys around in the dark of night. I just hope when I get home from work I don’t also find that Sally has managed to duct tape the cleaning people together in her closet. That would be awkward.

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