Like the rest of us, the Christmas hippos and Dooney the cheetah are ready to celebrate their Irish heritage today. (Actually, we’re not sure any of them are truly Irish, but Diamondqueen and the Hooligan children just couldn’t resist the cool duds.)
Dooney is wearing the ideal step-dancing dress, complete with Celtic knot embroidery. I can just see her doing her slip jig (feet crossed, up on your toes, kick your butt, Dooney!). Harold, dressed as a cross between a leprechaun and an old-time dance hall “Irish” character, looks as if he’s already been celebrating this weekend. My father often looked like this after St. Patrick’s Day, although without the green suit. (However, he did once appear on the local news wearing a green derby and hoisting a mug of green beer at a crowded pub; his mother, Grandma Mary, declared she was “mortified to death!”)
Diamondqueen and I agree that Nancy the hippo looks more hausfrau than colleen in this dress. In fact, Diamondqueen is already planning to borrow that dress for Dooney for Octoberfest next fall. However, Nancy looks very festive for today’s celebration; the only thing missing is a big platter of soda bread. And since she’s decked out in green, she doesn’t have to worry about getting pinched. (Does anyone even do that anymore?)
I haven’t personally gone out celebrating at pubs on St. Patrick’s Day for many years now. When the holiday falls on a weekend, I’ve sometimes gone out to lunch at Claddagh’s or someplace like that. Usually I buy Irish cheese and a six-pack of Guinness, but it takes me until mid-summer to drink it all. (My stomach can’t take much alcohol these days.) Since I’ve been fighting a mild migraine all weekend, I haven’t even had my Guinness yet. Maybe tomorrow night — after we go see J.Hooligan in a St. Patrick’s Day show at his school.
Of course, we’re a little concerned: J. has warned us that he has a tendency to tear up during their closing song, a musical version of the “Irish Blessing.” I told him if he cried during a song like that, every person in the audience with a drop of Irish blood would worship him. He says he’s still nervous, though. (I just hope I don’t tear up during the children singing the “Irish Blessing”!)