May your glass be ever full.
May the roof over your head be always strong.
And may you be in heaven
half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.
My grandfather on my mom's side, LeRoi B. Smith, was as irish as they came. By all accounts, Grandpa loved a good time, a good story, and a good drink. As sure as the day is long, he passed along a love of the Irish to my mother. To this day, two songs are certain to fill her eyes with tears: When Irish Eyes are Smiling and My Wild Irish Rose.
In honor of my semi-Irish mom, my irish-monikered offspring, my Irish-Italian ex and my own dubious Irish ancestry, Happy St. Patrick's Day to all of you. Wherever you are, Irish or not, wear your green, else you might be pinched, and lift a green beer in honor of the Irish among you.
