Luck of the Irish

This morning I was killing some time before our 11am church service and I started chatting with a lady to whom I’ve probably spoken with 8, maybe 10 times. I mean, it’s not at all like we’ve had hour long heart-to-hearts it’s always just been relatively brief social exchanges.

The Standard Comment Lady: Oh, she’s gotten so big hasn’t she? (Thankfully, speaking about The Duchess, not moi.)

Moi: Yeah, she’s pretty big for 10 months. She’s pretty tall.

The Kind, but Misguided Lady: (as The Duchess holds my hands and does some crazy high-step, arch-backed walk) And she’s walking and not even a year.  So clever.

Moi: Well, I mean, she can’t walk on her own, but yeah, she can hold onto things and get around pretty well.

The Mistaken Lady: So, do you think she’ll have an English accent or an Irish accent?


Moi: Um, well, I’m American, so I’d be pretty shocked if it was Irish.

The Totally Mortified Lady: Oh.  Oh my.  I thought.  I always thought you were Irish.

She literally put her face in her hands and looked as though she wanted to die, and I guess understandably, because we’d chatted enough for her to properly hear me.  I tried to lift the awkwardness by saying it happens all of the time.  Then, I tipped my hat, ate my Lucky Charms, and Riverdanced to the nearest exit.

I mean, maybe I do sound like this:


5 thoughts on “Luck of the Irish

  1. Zeta

    Haha! I’ve had similar things happen to me. After a few months of working a catering job in college, my boss admitted to me that until that day, she’d thought I was an exchange student from Europe…I guess I never fit in in Wisconsin to begin with…

  2. Deborah

    That is funny! I would love to have been fly on the wall during that conversation. Maybe now that you’ve had that awkward moment you’ll become really good friends… you know sometimes that happens! Then you’ll have your long running joke of “Remember when you thought I was Irish??”


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