Leprechauns and Expectations
The next day was St. Patrick’s Day. It was also the day my friend, Vicky’s, first-grade son was due to turn in his “Leprechaun Trap” school project. Gabe had been working on it for days with unusual diligence.
The year before, leprechauns had snuck into Gabe’s classroom, leaving chocolate coins, messed-up toys, and even—to his glorious surprise—green urine in the toilets. Gabe couldn’t wait to see how his trap worked. Vicky couldn’t wait to find out which overzealous moms had volunteered to sneak into school at 5 a.m. to arrange everything.
But that night, as they were praying before bed, Gabe prayed they would catch a leprechaun in their house the next morning. He clearly couldn’t wait to see the chocolate coins in the kitchen and green urine in the toilets.
“Oh, wait, honey,” Vicky said, smiling. “You’re building a trap for school. Leprechauns don’t come to our house.” After a busy day at work, the kitchen still a mess from dinner, and three other kids to put to bed, she had no intention of running to the store at 9:30 p.m. for chocolate coins and green food coloring. And who in the world wants to mess up their house on purpose?
Gabe stared at her. “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
Vicky calmly repeated, “The leprechauns only come to your school, not our home. This was an assignment from your teacher.”
Gabe was clearly very upset. “Well, that was a big, old waste of TIME!”
Vicky felt terrible—and angry. He had been working so hard and would now feel his hard work made no difference. It also felt like yet another mom failure, not living up to the expectations set by other more creative and, she assumed, less busy moms.
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