Erin Go' Braugh!!!!

Yes. This is my day. The day where people say my name wherever you go. The day where.....

What? You don't know what I'm talking about? You've never heard of "Erin Go'Braugh"?

Well, translated from the gaelic, it means "Ireland Forever". But to tell you the honest truth, since I was in 3rd grade, I've always kind of hated the term. When I was a kid my brother's stupid friend saw the cute little badge I always wore on St. Patrick's day, and the special shamrock shoelaces I would put on especially for the day, and laughed at me. I mean, outright, mockingly laughed at me. My badge and shoelaces said "Erin Go'Braugh" and when he asked what that said I told him.

"Bwahhhhh haaaaaaa haaaaaaa...." he guffawed, rudely. "Erin go-buy-a-bra! Haaaaa haaaa haaaaaaa!!!!!!"

Never have I wanted to punch somebody right in the nose as badly as I did that kid. Right there in the middle of the crosswalk as he stood there with his orange crossing-guard vest and flag. He was supposed to be our protector, our guard against ills that could threaten or hurt us. Yet, here he was mocking me- my name, my chest, for heaven's sake! I was only in 3rd grade- I wasn't supposed to buy a bra! I ran home, red-faced and fuming with anger, hurt, resentment, and malice. It was then I began plotting my revenge.

Being only 9, my imagination for suitable acts of revenge was limited, at best. Nevertheless, the very next day I exacted my revenge just as I had imagined it would go down...every last detail carried out to it's precisely intended effect. As the perpetrator crossed me and my friends that morning, I innocently walked toward him as though nothing at all had happened to shatter my entire self esteem. I smiled demurely and made as though to continue crossing to the other side. He never saw it coming. There, in front of several children crossing the street and standing at the corner, I lifted up my foot as high as it would go and I stomped as hard as I could onto his toes!

"You big, stupid Leprechaun!" I shouted. "I bet you made your mommy buy you that rainbow belt!" (incidentally, rainbow colored striped belts were all the rage at that time, so he was perfectly up with the fashion trends of the time.)

Granted, it was pretty lame. Looking back on it now I realize it could easily have made my shame worse, but luckily for me, we were all young and immature, and my comment was received with great success from the audience viewing. Huge roars of laughter errupted and I could see he was sufficiently humiliated- a 6th grader having been put in his place by little old me! I walked across the street with my head held high, still wearing the shoes with the shamrock laces.

Although I still hear him chanting "Erin go-buy-a-bra..." every St. Patricks' day, I do feel a sense of satisfaction as well. It will forever be known as the day I had my own little Irish victory.

Erin Go' Braugh! Erin forever!!!!!
*For some great Irish recipes to fix for dinner tonight, go to my recipe blog and try something new! I mean, who really likes corned beef and cabbage anyway, right?