A very small percentage of my youth was spent looking for four-leaf clovers in my backyard. I can't be sure if I found any or not, since the books I would have saved them in are some 3,000 miles away. I distinctly remember my older sister finding several at a time whenever we'd go searching for them in the grass. Well, she does have spectacular vision; even these days.
I like to think that I'm one lucky girl, regardless of how few four-leaf clovers I collected somewhere in my girlhood. My real Irish gem these days is my boyfriend - a third generation Floridian with Irish blood running throughout his every last vein. He might kill me if I neglected to mention that he's not 100% Irish; he's a good chunk German as well. He's so Irish McIrish though, without knowing it, he assumes an Irish dialect when he is frustrated with me. It's the funniest thing he could unintentionally ever do. I laugh at him, and then I get to mock him in my best "magically delicious." It's weird that we laugh it off everytime it happens. Because, well, it is weird. Do you ever assume the dialect of your heritage whence you're upset? I can't say that I do. But I have another problem.
Since being in Florida, I've been asked five or six times if I'm British.
And not Madonna British.
And not when I'm frustrated.
Gulp.
3 comments:
"weighs the mussed-tud." sometimes my boyfriend revets to his native new yorker, though not his heritage. but he does have an aryan blonde streak on the top of his head that we believe is his german heritage sprouting forth.
German heritage will get you in the strangest ways. Especially when you start organizing your office supplies. Keep the Aryan blonde streak under tight surveillance.
Ha! Your boyfriend and my boyfriend are related.
Michael is Scottish. He swears he's only Scots, but I know there's some German in him as well as Cherokee Indian.
I'm the natural Aryan blonde. What's scary is this: if blondes don't turn brunette, the hair just thins out.
My hair is so thin, I'll have baldness when I'm 36.
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