Last week my son’s class had an activity which consisted in building a leprechaun trap. Of course, the next day came and went with no catch whatsoever- only the telltale green sparkle that is apparently the hallmark of the leprechaun. I can only imagine what a Dyson vacuum cleaner goes for in Tipperary.
Of course, one of my sons’s peers (let’s call him “Sean”) felt the need to pull him aside and point out that this was all a sham put on by the teacher, and Sean was too damned smart to fall for such shenanigans. Well, top o’ the mornin’ to ya! Thanks for that bundle of confusion you sent my way, Sean! I’d like to Blarney your stones….
The evening of the big reveal, my son told me about Sean’s pearls of wisdom and asked me teary-eyed if I believed in leprechauns. I truthfully said that I believed that there were many mysterious and strange phenomena that I could not begin to understand, much less explain. I was primarily thinking of the aurora borealis and Spanx. Definitely Spanx.
I reminded him about the tooth fairy and Santa, and that just because the poor leprechaun was not well-heeled enough to leave a token, he should not be thought less of. This seemed to have comforted him tremendously and we had our usual talk whenever confronted with doubt. I explained yet again that “not believing” was not a sign of intelligence or maturity. It was just plain stubbornness- and more importantly, it was sad for whatever was being rejected by the jaded unbeliever. Poor little leprechaun and his humble green sparkle! This tugged at his empathy strings and within minutes my little boy was smiling peacefully.
A child’s imagination is stoked and his heart is filled with joy when leprechaun traps are built. And potential engineering careers are encouraged. And all is well with the world.
Oh, but Sean is banned from all future play dates. He can pogue mahone any time. Éirinn go Brách!