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Merry Excuse to Wear Green and Drink Too Much Day!

My St. Paddy’s Day story that could very well be an urban legend, as my sister has been known to tell me a tall tale or two:

Her friend’s friends (“really, I swear this happened, Melissa!”) went camping in the Sierra Nevadas, as young Californians are wont to do. Being appropriately granola-and-nuts type folks, they brought along some entertainment of the fungi variety.  You know, it was a celebration of nature and all. The gang of five drank some Bacchanalian grape juice, and ate some of those aforementioned fungi and got, well, rather tripped out.

They started dancing around the bonfire they had made and communing with the spirits of the forest. At one point, one of the young lasses snuck off into the woods to use the loo. While there, a tiny voice came from behind a tree: “I’m lost!” She peered into the darkness and saw: A leprechaun!

“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed.

“I’m lost,” the little sprite said again. “I can’t find home.”

She was very, very confused. But she also was very, very excited: she had found a leprechaun!

“I’ll take you to my house. You can come stay with me!”

She hurried back to her friends. She told the leprechaun to wait just outside the firelight’s circle while she told her friends about her discovery. At first, they were disbelieving, until she said, “You can come out now!” And a little leprechaun walked into their midst.

“A leprechaun!” “We found a leprechaun!” The party started hooting and dancing. The leprechaun said again, “I’m lost!”

They gave the leprechaun some of their food and then started dancing around the fire pit again. The leprechaun danced with them in the flickering flames. It was the best camping trip ever.

Finally, the leprechaun started to grow sleepy. The friends made a tiny bed for him in the corner of a tent and tucked him away and continued their epic party.

The next morning, the gang slowly woke bleary-eyed in the dawn light. A couple snuggled together in a sleeping bag near the ashes of the fire and whispered to each other: “Did we think we found a leprechaun last night?” “What was that?” “We were so high.”

They lay for a few seconds, relishing in the hazy memories of the night before. And then they looked at each other. What the hell did they find last night?

They jumped up and ran to the tent. Inside, tucked in its little nest lay the leprechaun: a five-year-old wearing a Cub Scout uniform.

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