March 1 is practically a holiday in my book. It's 12 days to my birthday (write that down, people - March 13th) and it's open season on Leprechauns. Leprechauns may have fallen out of favor in your life, but in my life -- they're practically their own sub-culture.
Today was the first of several Leprechaun "attacks" in my first grade classroom. Did you know Leprechauns come to classrooms during March? They do -- there's a lot of mischief by those little fellows. Papers were a mess by our sink. Green footprints telling the tale on our tile floor. And you could cut the excitement with a knife. It was palpable. The kids believe so much in magic. They love this and I love sharing the magic with them.
Because really, there's nothing I miss more from childhood than magic. You can act like a kid. You can play like a kid. But you can never, ever believe like a kid again. That's the one part you can't go back on and I so desperately wish I could.
So, I spent the day in magic looking for Leprechauns once the evidence was found.
We looked for them on the playground. No luck.
We kept looking around our room, but nothing more was found.
As my class filed in and out for lunch, and I was "released" to take my lunch break, I sat down to type a quick email to young Charles. He loves Leprechaun time as much as I do, probably because March is my happiest month because nothing makes you happier than magic. A few little ones came to chat at my computer and I said I'd ask Mr. Allison if Leprechauns were in his office building.
They decided this was a grand idea and helped me write an email, detailing how our room was a "Leprechaun sty -- like a pig sty except made by Leprechauns".We hit send and I left to eat. During recess, Chuck emailed back.
"I may have Leprechauns in the office. Take a look and let me know."
He included a picture.
He used his break time to cut out footprints and tipped The Good Ol' Prospector over as evidence. He did magic for First Graders that he's never met. And he made their faces shine.
I may not have married an athletic man.
Or a 9 to 5 power suit business man.
Or a fashion man.
But I married a good man.
A very, very good man.