Mom didn’t like Saint Patrick’s Day. When she was young, her family was persecuted by a KKK group in upstate New York. It’s a familiar story. While at a summer vacation spot, her family was awakened to find there was a cross burning on the lawn. Why? They were Irish. Mom felt that it was unwise to advertise that you were Irish. Dad, on the other hand, would give out green carnations with glee and taught us the proper response to ” Top of the mornin to you!” . It’s “And the rest of the day to you!”. I would wind green satin ribbons around my pigtails and ask my mother how I looked. She would just sigh and shake her head.
Mom may not have been objecting to my “wearin’ o” the green.” At least, not altogether. It seems that green is not my color. Blue? Sensational. Red? Fabulous. Green? Not so much. I had to order a jacket to wear in the upcoming parade. I will be the one who looks ill in spite of the smile on my face.