Where’s Ye Pot O’Gold?

Sometimes it’s a dreary, rainy, muddy Monday, and you’re stuck in the house all day with a sick kid, a cough, and a dog who thinks it’s fun to dig holes and then track mud into the house. And you’re kind of depressed.

Then out of nowhere, your dad posts a picture of himself. In a bloody kilt. Granted, it would have been better if he were like 30 in a kilt instead of a sixth-grader forced to dress up for a school Irish jig skit, but either way, it’s awesome. Especially considering there isn’t an iota of Celtic blood in the lot of us. Props to my dear late Grandma Pauline, though, for coming up with a kick-ass outfit. Right down to the socks.

My friend Julie came in with the best line of the day. “His body language is saying, ‘I’m cool,’ while his eyes are screaming, ‘Where are my pants?!'”

© Jennifer Alys Windholz, 2012



One thought on “Where’s Ye Pot O’Gold?

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