Today is Saint Patrick's Day--a day in which my largest percentage of ancestry is given a free-pass to eat Irish potatoes, drink green beer, and say things like, "Kiss me, I'm Irish!." I'm about 50% Irish, so I'll eat half a potato, drink half a glass of green beer, and just say, "Kiss me."
William was asking if he was Irish this morning. I said I didn't think so. He said,
"Well, are you?"
"Yes, yes I am."
"Well, then I am too."
"No, William. It doesn't quite work like that."
"What do you mean?"
"My genes weren't passed to you."
Though William, when it comes to your good looks, I will take credit, if that's alright.
If you haven't seen Waking Ned Devine, it's a perfectly delightful movie to watch on St. Patrick's Day.
Also, my Dad is so obsessed with his Irish heritage that sometimes my sister Kate and I will just shout out Irish phrases with an Irish accent just to make ourselves laugh. He rolls his eyes but he laughs on the inside. It's kind of like an Irish Tourettes Syndrome (I had to use Wikipedia to look up how to spell Tourettes), also known as ITS. We will exclaim, "Erin go bragh! Shamrocks! Motherland! Luck o' the Irish! Blarney stone! Laddie! Green!" (Yes, when we're really desperate, green is suitable).
It's quite fun.