Being of primarily Polish descent, I lived my life without giving St. Patrick's Day much thought. Until my bright boy turned five and decided that he was very Irish (which he is actually just a little bit). I took him to a local St. Patrick's Day celebration and parade, which took place on the Saturday before the holiday. Three days later, he awakened to a new green striped shirt for him to wear to school (no one would be pinching my boy) with great disappointment. "Where are the decorations, where is my celebration?" He was really sad that I skipped over his holiday. That's where it started. The next year, after he went to bed, I decorated everything that wasn't moving. He even found green water in the toilet that morning. I had watched for sales and purchased every over-the-top Irish looking decoration that I could find. He was thrilled. I was too. This was fun.
So that's where it started. Over the years, we've had huge parties and small parties with green bread and corned beef. I've bought Irish butter, Irish cheese and shamrock shaped everything. This holiday has become a part of us. I'm still not Irish, that I know of (there's a story there), but have come to enjoy the celebration. These are a couple of photos of my smiling boy when he was still small and some of our more subdued decorations. The explosion of green won't happen until the big day.
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