Thursday, March 17, 2011

Little Green Men, take II

So last night, at 11:00, I crept upstairs to dump coins and confetti in Caroline's shoes. I tiptoed into her room but was stopped short by a piece of heavily-worded paper propped up against the shoes. I grabbed a flashlight and read it:

"Dear Leprechaun,

Thank you so much for always making St. Patrick's Day so much fun for me. I am leaving you a piece of chocolate since you always leave me something. (Damnit, Caroline, no candy in your room!! I don't want mice or bugs!!) I know how busy you are, but I know that you're magic and can do anything, so I have one favor to ask.

Please, please, please will you paint my toenails green while I sleep? I'll leave my feet out from under the covers for you.

Love,
Caroline"

Well.

SHIT.

I have that unfortunate purple. I have electric blue. I have glitter and every shade of pink and red known to Elizabeth Arden. But nooooooo, I don't have green nailpolish. I don't even have yellow to mix with the blue. My husband is out of town. I can't run to the store, which, pathetically, I would have done if it was an option. Can I use marker? Eyeliner? White-out mixed with food coloring?

Ahhhh, who's the sucker now?

What did I do? Go to sleep, like a normal, tired mother who thinks it's ridiculous that her almost-nine-year-old still believes in leprechauns? No. I frantically ran downstairs, found a leprechaun-y font on the computer, printed out individual letters, glued them on pieces of green paper and left a big, messy word riddle for her to figure out. At midnight I was blowing on the glue to dry it until I realized I was hyperventilating and probably slipping into some sort of an inhaled-glue coma.

She was thrilled and completely confident in the existence of magic. I was pooped. Being a leprechaun is simply exhausting.

2 comments:

  1. Thank God for you Julie. Officially, I think your children may be the only ones left living in LaLa Land with Maddie. No question, there will be some serious therapy needed in her thirties after she comes to grips with the reality of it all. It's the day after St. Pat's and I just finished writing a note to her finally finishing the written dialogue that has been going on for several days. I finally wrote, "I'm leaving to head back to Ireland, talk to you next year".

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  2. Somehow I missed your blog on this day -- and I rarely miss it!! Hilarious... If it makes you feel any better -- I was at Giant at midnight because I realized I didn't have any green food coloring for the Leprechaun to leave the toilets, milk, etc, green so the kids would know he visited!

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