A McGee on St. Patricks Day

My McGee relatives all live in Alabama.  They say they are southerners and that’s the end of it, but one distant cousin recently worked on a family tree.  A (great, great bunch of greats) grandmother “knew things” so she is my psychic relative.  The family tree didn’t go far back enough to include other countries, but the name McGee screams Irish.  Today I will wear the green.

St. Patricks Day fits me.  It’s full of leprechauns, which are magical fairies in Irish mythology.  Like me, a leprechaun is a solitary creature.  It can be called a sprite, which is defined as a ghost or a fairy.  I can relate to ghosts.  I see them when I work on murder cases and I sometimes see them in houses and forests.  A fairy feels spooky to me, especially the one in the movie Peter Pan. 

Green beer and Irish whiskey and anything gluten now give me hives, but I haven’t aged out of sprite behavior, so frivolity is in order.  And guess what?  You don’t have to be Irish to enjoy a day of fun.