Céad míle fáilte!

It’s St. Paddy’s Day, wee lads and lassies! Time for the wearin’ o’ the green! Time to sing songs like “When Irish Eyes are Smiling” and “Dear Old Donegal” (just ask me and I’ll sing for you the fast part at the end with all the Irish surnames!) and everyone’s favorite, “Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?”. Everyone is in good spirits on St. Patrick’s Day!

Everyone, that is, except my coworker. To protect her identity, I’ll call her Tori. This morning, I came beaming into the office and greeted everyone with a “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!” in my impeccable Irish accent. I know some people forget that today is St. Patrick’s Day (heaven forbid!) so as a way to make everyone feel as welcome as the flowers in May, I bring small green items to give to people who forgot to wear their green. Today I decided to bring St. Patrick’s Day themed temporary tattoos. So cute, right?? Everyone took me up on my offer to pick out a tattoo to show they were Irish, or at least an honorary Irish person for the day. When I so graciously offered a tattoo to Tori, she practically threw daggers at me with her eyes. In a voice reminiscent of the girl from “The Exorcist”, Tori informed me that she hates St. Patrick’s Day. “I’m not Irish and I’m not Catholic, so I hate St. Patrick’s Day.”

I quickly took a step back from Tori’s side, so as not to receive a painful burn from the lightning bolt that was sure to strike at any moment. Who can hate St. Patrick’s Day? No one I’ve ever met from here to the Emerald Isle has ever hated St. Patrick’s Day. Growing up, I attended Holy Infant School, run by the Sisters of Mercy from County Meath, Ireland. Every St. Paddy’s Day, the whole town would come out for the school’s festival, which included performances by the Holy Infant Irish Dancers (yours truly danced for 3 years) and McNamara’s Band (the schoolboys couldn’t dance so they got to partake in the singing portion of our routine). We even got a day off from school for St. Patrick’s Day! So it stands to reason that no one I’ve ever met has hated such a wonderful day.

Therefore, I’m on a mission today. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to get Tori in the St. Paddy’s Day spirit. I’ve been bombarding her with email images (shown below) that exemplify the essence of Ireland. I’ve sent her St. Paddy’s Day trivia and let her know that other faiths believe in Saints, not just us Catholics. I told her how two women in a convertible threw green beads at me as I waited to cross the street this afternoon, just because I’m wearing green. I even played Irish music throughout the front office, and yes, I danced a jig for Tori from my days as an Irish dancer. That seemed to make her smile (ok, laugh) but I haven’t converted her yet. But I will, or my name isn’t Kimberly Kathleen Burke. As they say in Ireland, Slán agus beannacht leat.