A Whole Bunch of Blarney!

How was I to know that now, in addition to keeping track of all of our stories of Santa Clause, the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny, we - as parents - are also the keepers of leprechaun lore? Apparently a memo went out, and I didn't get a copy. So, imagine my surprise when my oldest child tells me excitedly this morning, that he can't wait to go out into our yard to collect the gold coins that the leprechauns have left over night!

I couldn't help it, I thought surely he was just being cute. Besides - we were going to be late for school and I didn't have time for him to run outside. In hindsight, I should have let him go, and once he discovered that there were no gold coins, I could have said something like, "I guess they didn't have a good map," or, "They must have gotten lost!" Instead, it went something like this:

Kirby: "I'm going out into the yard to collect all of the gold coins that the leprechauns left for us last night!"

Me: "Kirby, you need to brush your teeth and get your back pack - we're going to be late!"

Kirby: "Mom! I just need to run out there really quick to get the coins!"

Me: "Seriously Kirby, you don't believe there are gold coins out there, do you?"

(he nods his head)

Me: "You don't think leprechauns are real, do you?"

(wide-eyed, with voice lips starting to tremble, he nods)

Me: "Oh Kirby! Leprechauns are part of Irish folklore...they're a fable - a fairy tale - just something fun to tell stories about."

(major breakdown ensues - I'm talking and he's sobbing, heaving shoulders, crocodile tears, the works)

I spent the next five minutes trying to explain what a fable is, what a fairy tale is, what a tall tale is, anything that might give him some sort of compass to work with in his understanding of Irish folklore. Connor sat on the floor quietly putting his shoes on; as soon as I finished, he looked up at me with big eyes and calmly said, " 'cept Mommy - leprechauns are real."

While I don't feel too guilty for spoiling the magic of the leprechaun, I have haunting memories of the day, in 3rd grade, that I found out there was no Santa Clause. My mom, who was also sure her little girl was too smart to believe in such fables, unwittingly let the cat out of the bag. We were having lunch at Taco Bell and I cried a river into my enchirito. I guess you could say that karma got me this time!