Looking for little green men

I’m not sure when St. Patrick’s Day became such a big holiday at my house, but somehow it did. Trust me, I had nothing to do with it…Christmas, Valentine’s Day, if you read my blog, you know I reluctantly celebrate them, so to add another holiday to the fray--not I.

Yet, my children have embraced it as if we just came from Ireland, instead of Britain and Germany centuries and decades ago, respectively. Part of the appeal of St. Patrick’s Day lies in their quest for gold—leprechaun gold to be exact. He has it; they want it. And they build elaborate traps to get it.

Each year I never cease to be amazed at the complexities of their leprechaun-catching contraptions. Give them some string and a roll of tape, and it’s a miracle that the little mischievous fellow, whom my kids call “Lucky,” manages to gets away. One year, Lucky left a note, laughing at their failed attempt. Another year he left plastic gold coins, while another he left a trail of shiny peppermint patties.

Fortunately, my children aren’t daunted. They know if they ever catch the leprechaun, they get to keep his pot of gold. And even though he’s tricky, they keep trying. Perhaps this year they will outsmart him. If not, maybe we will see a rainbow. I hear there’s treasure at the other end, and, hopefully, they will never stop chasing it.