As far as I know, I don't have much Irish blood in me, but on St. Patrick's Day, I think everyone gets to be Irish. I am neither Irish nor Catholic, but since I used to be an engineer, and St. Pat is the patron saint of engineers, I will add that to my reasons for celebrating by donning a pair of shamrock socks and seeking clover to photograph. Thinking back on the last three decades of St. Paddy's days, all I remember ever doing is wearing green and pinching as many people as I could -- no parades, no parties, no special meals . . . except one.
Many years ago (sometime between 1980-1990) it was almost St. Pat's day because McDonalds had their Shamrock Shake available -- a minty-flavored, green milkshake. Forsome reason or another, I went to work with my dad one day. I think it was a weekend, because Mom and Jason were home. In my memory, Dad was excited to take me to a McDonalds on the way to his office, and we had a special dad- and-daughter lunch with cheeseburgers and fries. After we finished, he got each of us a Shamrock Shake. Few details are clear in my head, but I remember I was thrilled to have my OWN, all to myself, and it was big. We enjoyed our sweet minty treats, and went about the day, going to his office and the Busy Beaver hardware store. I remember the McDonalds, the joy at getting my own shake, and how miserable I was when I puked up all that shake a bit later.
Sometimes, I get the same scent of McFries, or taste something with the same vanilla-mint flavor, and it takes me back to that day with my dad. It is sort of like those sickening sappy McD's commercials when the Mom takes her kid for a special memory-making meal at McD's. When I see those, I roll my eyes with the "As-If" attitude. Seriously? What child would remember a special-moment McDonalds meal? . . . This kid, Dad. Thanks for the memory and the shake, and for holding my hair back when I was throwing it all up. You can know I'm thinking of you every St. Patrick's Day just because of that green milkshake.
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