St. Paddy’s, Emily Style

St. Patrick’s Day is typically a drunken revelry filled with every Irish cliche you can pack into one day: Leprechauns, pots o’ gold, rainbows, shamrocks, and the luck of the Irish…. but who can forget the beer? The original intent behind St. Patrick’s Day was to commemorate the life of  a Roman-Briton born Christian missionary to the Celts and you can read more about him here since I have decided not to bore you to death with the details.

Since I am probably 1/16th Irish, I gave a nod to my heritage by wearing green. To me, the green was also pinch insurance, and I stated so on my Facebook status. My friend Scott thought otherwise. He commented on my Facebook status by “pinching” me.

I e-mailed him this response:

“By the way…. pinch me one more time, and I will hurt you. I am short and fiesty, remember? I bet its my Irish blood. So you best watch yourself!”

 

Scott’s reply:

yes, I’ll watch myself. You don’t have to tell a Scotsman that! It was either pinch an Irish girl or kiss one…which would you prefer?

 

 That comment made me pretty red.

 

 I then posted a photo of myself in my green attire. Because it was kind of a cute picture (and I am vain) I sent it to several friends with the message, “Can’t pinch me today!”

 

 

Me in green

 I changed my Facebook status to ”Emily wants to let you know just because she is Irish does NOT mean you can kiss her!” Then came more hilarious conversations….

The first response was from Andrew B.

 

 

 

 

 A: (after seeing my updated Facebook status) Did someone try to kiss you?
Me: No. A friend threatened to since he can’t pinch me. Oy. Besides, if anyone tried, I might hurt them.

Depends on who tries.
A: Depends? Whats the alternative? Oh, and I sent you a Flair.
(The flair he sent said “I was normal until I met EMILY.) I had to walk away from my desk because I was

laughing so hard!)
After I got that text from him, I was concerned he thought I was flirting. So I sent this:
Alternative? A female. An old lady, perhaps. Maybe one or two select guys are allowed to kiss my cheek. Hope

I didn’t scare you!
A: Not a bit.
(I then texted him something about me looking boy crazy to someone I know because I often praise me wonderful

guy friends. I don’t care to share the particulars.)
A: (responding to me being boy crazy) Or maybe a lot of guys are you crazy.
Me: Ha! The fine gentlemen I uplift tend not to be me crazy!

 

And then there was Michelle:
M: I can pinch you if I want to
Me: No you can’t! I am wearing green.
M: I could pinch you if I was there.
Me: Tough.
M: lol

 I got this one from Chelle in the last 60 seconds..

M; Ur not green today… so pinch.

 

Stacy (after seeing the picture I sent)
S: Da*n you’re hott! I don’t have to wear green since I am a cop!
Me: ROTFL! You ride in a paddy wagon! That’s irish yo!

 

Jenni R’s response to my text:
Lol I get to smack Sami when she gets home though
(I am going to guess she wasn’t wearing green)

And then, I sent this e-mail to Eric:
Me: Happy St. Paddy’s! Are you wearing green today? If not, then I will pinch you!
E: No.
Me: Then I get to pinch you if I get to see you later.
E: Where are you suggesting to pinch me?

 

The weirdness continued today when Jerry from my church responded to my Facebook status about not letting people kiss me, though I am Irish.

J: Okay….then you can kiss me. As the saying goes…if you kiss enough frogs…you find a prince. I am not a

prince…but at least you would have another frog checked off your list.
Me:Jerry, I find that suggestion frightening.
J:What is a frog to do?
Me: Croak and eat flies?

 

Seriously? Does it get ant odder than all of that? My theory about all this ridiculousness:

 

Everyone had a pint of Guinness. I swear I didn’t. It appears that I acted like it.

Kids- you gotta love them!

For my second guest post I thought I would tell you all about my children, and some of the embarrassing things they have done to me in public. My oldest is Samantha, Sami for short, who will be 6 later this month and Gabrielle, Gabi for short, who will be 3 in May.

Sami is very outspoken. She started talking at 6 months old and hasn’t stopped. Even having her tonsils removed when she was 4 couldn’t keep her from talking. The girl even talks in her sleep! Gabi is more mischievous and quieter. She has already mastered the soul piercing glare when she doesn’t get her way.

I will go threw my stories chronologically. My first story takes place when Sami was 2. Sometime after I had dropped Sami off at daycare in the morning an eight year old boy was dropped off with a solid wood baseball bat. Later in the day the boy was swinging the bat around in the living room. Apparently the thought to take it away as soon as he got inside never crossed the daycare’s mind. He was told to stop, which he didn’t, and Sami ran up behind him to take it away. Then- POW- Sami got hit in the face with the end of the bat hard enough she flew back 3 feet. Sami didn’t even shed a tear. She got up, rubbed her eye, and said, “That didn’t hurt”. Then walked back up to the boy and grabbed the baseball bat away from him.

The daycare never called me or anything. I pick Sami up and she has a huge swollen black eye. After freaking out and screaming about how lucky Sami was that she wasn’t seriously hurt I left.

I had to do some shopping that night at Wal-Mart. As we walked threw the store Sami was reaching out of the cart grabbing anything she could reach off of the shelves. When I had finally had enough of telling her no and slapping her hands lightly I yelled. I told her to knock it off. Sami looks up at me with sad little eyes, one black and swollen, and says, “Mommy, please don’t hit me again.” I could literally feel the people staring at me in the aisle.

My next story takes place when Sami is 3. Once again, we are at Wal-Mart. Sami and I were in the check out lane. Out of nowhere Sami asked me, “Mommy, why is that guys skin so brown?” The man in front of us immediately spins around and is staring at me. He was very dark, possibly South African decent. He was waiting for my response to Sami’s question. I said the first thing that came to me. I looked down at Sami and asked her, “Why are you so pale?” She looks at her arms and says she didn’t know. I then told her that was just how she was, and that was just how he was. The man in front of us in line smiled, gave a small laugh as he picked up his bags and walked away.

This took place shortly after Gabi was born. The three of us were shopping, and I had Gabi in the front seat part of the cart in her car seat. Sami had been running all over and grabbing things off the shelves so I had tossed her in the basket of the cart. We were getting some baby items and Sami still wouldn’t listen. I had had enough. I glanced around real quick and saw no one around us. I told Sami if she didn’t stop it I was going to spank her butt. Sami had immediately ducked down in the cart behind Gabi’s seat. Then I hear a woman in a shaky voice behind me, “Um, That’s a cute baby girl you have.” As I turn to look at the woman I realized that from her viewpoint she couldn’t see Sami in the cart, and all she saw was me threaten to spank at 3 week old baby who is sleeping. I quickly make a brief comment about her age and the woman goes on her way. As she has her back to us, Sami pops up and says “Good bye!” then hides again. The woman spun around, looking very confused, and then walked away.

Guest Blog!!!

Hello everyone! My name is Jenni Rankin and I will be guest blogging for you all today! To start with I thought I would tell you all a little about myself and my up bringing; mainly my family. Emily always likes to hear stories about them so I thought they may be entertaining to everyone else as well. Please bear with me while I go threw the back ground, though, and introduce everyone.

I am a 25 year old divorcee with two beautiful little girls; Samantha who will be 6 next month, and Gabrielle who will turn 3 in May. I have a wonderful boyfriend named Brad who is 28. We live together in Carroll; which is by far the biggest town I have ever lived in. Brad is Catholic- I know, not a good one if he is living with a woman that’s not yet his wife but it works- and I became a Christan a few years ago.

My immediate family consist of the traditional mother, father, and brother. I also have a half sister from my dads first marriage. I was born in Guthrie Center and soon after moved to Perry, then at age 6 a hog farm outside of Adel, and moved again at age 11 to an acreage outside of Linden. Linden is close to Panora and Lake Panorama. The towns population is a whopping 50 or less.

My moms parents divorced when she was 2 due to my grandpas infidelities. Their divorce was finalized, the next day Grandma Janet gave birth to my moms sister, the day after that Grandpa Mel was remarried in Missouri. Six months later his new wife Nancy gave birth to another daughter. My Aunt Trisha and Aunt Becky are only 6 months apart. My grandpa never had much part in Mom and Trisha’s lives. My grandma fell into a deep depression after the divorce and has never even dated another man since. As a result of Grandma’s depression, my mom and her sister were raised Christian mostly by Grandma Janet’s parents.

My dads parents are a little different story. Grandpa Joe was a Deputy Sheriff for Polk County in the 60’s and 70’s. Grandma Elinor never learned to drive but always worked 40+ hours a week. She worked at Earl Maye’s, Payless, then Menard’s. Grandpa Joe was a huge man- 6′ 4″ and 300 lbs, none fat. Grandma Elinor is 5′ even, maybe weighing 95 lbs. Both were Atheist and racist, Grandpa was also sexist and abusive. Both EXTREMELY stubborn and strong willed. Grandma Elinor curses worse than a sailor and smokes worse than a chimney. Since Grandpa’s death in 1994 Grandma Elinor has calmed down a bit as far as racism. She says what she thinks when she thinks it and doesn’t care who it offends. She can also drop you harder than a rock if you talk back.

My dad moved out of his parents house when he was 17 because Grandpa Joe was going to force him to go to Vietnam. He was beaten severely before he left. He was almost half way threw his senior year when he had to drop out. He moved to Wisconsin to live with his cousin Nancy and her husband Mel. Yes,you are reading this correctly. Dads cousin Nancy is my moms step mom. My family tree is related by marriage- BY MARRIAGE! NOT BLOOD! Hence I am a Redneck from Iowa and not a Hillbilly from Arkansas. He didn’t meet my mom until about 6 or 7 years later when Mel and Nancy moved back to Iowa.

When my parents did meet, get married, and have kids they decided to raise us with no religion at all. Mom being Christan wouldn’t raise us Atheist, and the other way around for Dad. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I realized that the majority of people when to church on Sundays and I was the odd one for not.

OK, now that I have told you a little about my family I think I will entertain you with some stories about Grandma Elinor. I am also going to add the following disclaimer:

It is not my intention to offend anyone; so if I do, I apologize now. I will clean up any quotes from Grandma with Astrix’s. The purpose of the following stories are for entertainment, even though they are true.

There. Now I will tell you about the time Grandma Elinor met the Medieval Group from Iowa State University.

 My brother Davin had just started college at Iowa State and he wanted to take us all on a tour of the campus. Mom, Dad, Grandma, Samantha, and I all walked around with Davin as our tour guide. He showed us all the buildings his classes were in and anything he felt had historical significance. As we walked past the Bell Tower in the center of campus, the Medieval Group was “sword fighting” with foam bats and swords.

This group lives medieval- literally. Their clothes are medieval looking, hand made, and worn constantly. They only bathe once a month. They do not shave- men or women. It looks as though you are almost looking back in time when you see them, and that is their goal.

When Davin saw them he tried everything he could think of to distract Grandma and have us go towards a different building- with no luck. Davin knew what was coming, as did the rest of us. Sami was only 2 years old and luckily she was sleeping in the stroller at the time. There was no way to avoid having to walk within feet of them. Grandma Elinor had seen them. The first thing out of her mouth?

She looked at Davin and asked, “What in the **** are those idiots doing?”  She was completely appalled. She didn’t lower her voice, and they could hear every word. Davin tried to politely explain the group since they were with in ear shot. As we got closer, Grandma slowed down, stopped about 3 feet from them, and started in. “Oh my *** their scurvy! Look at them! Don’t they know what soap is? When was the last time they took a bath? Why in the **** cant they cut that filthy hair if they wont wash it!”

Davin tried to push Grandma along, but we knew better- she wasn’t going anywhere. I had quickly shoved the stroller by in a speed walk, Dad not far behind me. Mom was trying to hide her face as she was torn between helping Davin or abandoning her son with Grandma to save herself. All of us were trying to hide laughter under our breath at the sight of a 75 year old woman with a beehive hair cut cursing at a group of teenagers. The Medieval Group had stopped their “sword fight” and were asking each other who the old woman was.

Grandma kept going, “Why would a University allow such filthy idiots in school? They are just wasting their parents money! ****ing scurvy *******s!”

Davin got Grandma moving, and we heard about how nasty their appearance was for the rest of the evening. And the Medieval Group? After we were about 20 feet away, they started “sword fighting” again right were they left off., seemingly unfazed.

That’s Grandma Elinor. I will probably post again either tonight or tomorrow while Emily is out of town. Hope this was entertaining!