St. Patrick’s Day was always a fun day back when I was a kid. I would figure out what I was going to wear so I would not be pinched all day long and look forward to lots of cool Green projects like coloring Leprechauns and pots of gold. Grammar school was so much fun. I miss those years.
The sad thing is that St. Patty’s day will forever remind me one very disturbing afternoon.
Georgie was a little guy and staying each day at a daycare on location where my wife worked. She was working as a Teacher’s Aide for hearing impaired kids. This particular location had a daycare available to the school staff so Georgie would stay there during the day. It worked out great because Jasmine could stop in and see him whenever she wanted or was needed.
One evening as my wife was cooking dinner and I was hanging out with little G, I quickly realized that the awful odor I smelled was thankfully not dinner but a very full diaper. I took him into his room and put him on the changing table. I could not believe what I saw when I took off his diaper!
“JAAAAAAZZZZZ!!!!!! GET IN HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!”
As my wife comes running into the room my brain starts spinning. What the hell did he get into? Do I need to call poison control? Oh my goodness, something is wrong with my baby!!!!
There in his diaper is what looks like Bright Green Paint. I was sure he drank paint or ate a marker or something. I had no clue. We were both freaking out. My wife had enough sense to call one of the girls who worked there at the daycare and find out if maybe the school was missing a Gumby doll or something. I cleaned him all up as Jasmine called. I kept waiting for him to start crying or spitting up green goo like the exorcist but nothing happened.
Suddenly I hear my wife coming down the hall crying. Oh no! As she turns the corner into the room and I am finally able to begin breathing again since I realize that she was laughing. Hysterically laughing.
“They gave him green milk to drink. They gave all the kids green milk for St. Patrick’s day!”
You have got to be kidding me? So here I am, ready to take my kid to the hospital to have his stomach pumped and this was all a St. Patty’s day thing? I felt so dumb but at the same time, I was kind of mad that the people there did not say anything to us.
Oh well at least all was okay. It is too bad that every year when St. Patrick’s Day comes around, I have memories of one thing.