When you go to a predominantly Irish Catholic college, St. Patrick’s Day is kind of a big deal. Or, maybe it’s true of every college, and I just don’t know the difference? Does everyone get up at 9am and drink beer somewhere appropriately called “The Crackhouse?”
(Hi Carla! Nice denim overalls. Hi Beecher!)
Strangely enough, I could have sworn I had more photos from St. Patrick’s Days past. I have lots of memories, thats for sure. I would like to think that I was so busy having fun that I forgot to take pictures. That’s something my children need to appreciate! I recently hid my ’94 album so my teenagers can’t find it. And now, I can’t find it. This may be the one straggler from senior year.
However, use your imagination that it kinda went down like this…as it always did.
(Hey Lizzie, are you tickling Kerry?)
Then you graduate. Get married. Have kids. And St. Patrick’s Day turns into being about this.
However, I don’t really buy into this whole Leprechaun destroying the whole house and giving candy thing. My house is messy enough. Do our kids really need more candy? I’m still always up for a cocktail with friends, especially when 3/17 falls on a Friday. Mama’s got a babysitter tonight and is officially OFF carpool duty!
Plus, as my dear friend Rose used to point out, and as this picture proves, St. Patrick’s Day is the rock bottom point of your year. You can only get cuter, fitter and tanner from here. Bottom’s up to that!
Tiocfaidh ár lá, lassies.