The Leprechauns must be stopped. That much is clear.
I think the unicorn blood we’ve smeared over our front door is working because we’ve been largely spared their antics, some green milk here, shamrock-colored toilet water there. It’s just harmless fun at our house.
But others are not so fortunate and sadly my kids have been affected by what Leprechauns are doing at their friends’ houses.
When fifth-grader Magoo came downstairs this morning, he looked intensely in my eyes and said, “I wonder what the Leprechaun brought us.”
“Um… I’m pretty sure nothing,” I said, “Leprechauns don’t bring gifts to this address.”
“Oh,” he looked deflated.
This surprised me because for the past several years, as Leprechaun activity around our town has escalated to the point of total Pin-sanity, we have been continually spared. It’s not as though last year the Leprechaun swept in like an abusive husband, trashing our house and leaving reconciliatory gifts, but then forgot about us this year.
No.
Green milk.
Every year.
That’s all she wrote.
So Magoo continued, “I’ll go check my shoes… just in case… to see if he filled them with Rolos or gold coins.” Again the intense eye contact, pleading, hopeful.
The heck? I bought you Lucky Charms and offered you spinach eggs (WHICH ARE GREEN!!). What more do you want from me?
I do not understand the magic of Leprechauns.
Santa and the Easter Bunny bring gifts, symbolic of the gifts of the Savior. The tooth fairy brings money in exchange for harvested body parts. These make sense to me. But Leprechauns?
They trash your house or school room and then I guess feel bad about it so they leave you gold or high fructose corn syrup or adorable hand-made prizes as seen on Pinterest.
What’s next, a Flag Day Gollum who burns your house down and then leaves you a new car or fills the charred remains of your socks with diamonds?
I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I’ve come up with a plan.
Next year.
For St. Patrick’s Day.
I think I may go crazy and dye the milk green. I think the kids will love it.
