Here is the story of how I'm Irish.
When I was in college, my sisters were in high school...and every March month, they'd want to dress up in the green and wear "Kiss me I'm Irish" buttons to school...even though they "weren't Irish." About that time, my dad came into possession of a family history book that linked us to the Green Isle. Turns out there was this family who was very poor. So very poor that they only owned a goat. When that goat died, they left their naitive land to come to America. (Do I need to add "Far...we've been traveling far...Without a home, but not without a star...Free! Only want to be free! We huddle close hang onto a dream. Okay, okay...I'll save that song for the 4th of July or something!)
So the goat died and they came to America. My younger sisters could truthfully wear buttons on St. Patty's day...AND be legitimately kissed! haha.I'm glad we are Irish b/c that makes our playful fairies and such even more relevant! haha.