The Official Poop Bag of St. Patrick's Day

Went out for the morning walk and realized that the only green I was sporting were the bags I use for cleaning up after Marcus.

Which look more yellow in the photo, but trust me. They are the shamrocks of poop bags.

And … they are relatively easy to open compared to other bags on the market, which are designed by the same sadists who make the plastic bags in the vegetable section at Publix. By rough calculation, I’ve spent two years, eight weeks and fourteen days opening poop bags since we’ve had Marcus. He’s 15 and a half. And constipation has never been an issue.

I am proud to report that Marcus did his part to represent on St. Patrick’s Day. The walk was a three-bagger.

Or, should I say an “Erin go bagher.”

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St. Patrick’s Day is a pretty big deal around our place. Our older son, Bo, was born on March 17. I’d show you a photo of my lovely wife in the hospital with him just after she popped him out, but there would be hell to pay for that.

Instead, here’s a shot of our Reuben Sandwich Assembly line, which we cranked up to celebrate because none of us really like corned beef and cabbage. Guinness was also involved.

***

Lately I’ve become semi-addicted to the Merlin app. It’s from the Cornell University Lab of Ornithology and it does a pretty good job of identifying bird calls.

Most days on my walks it’s the same old, same old. House wrens. Fish crows. Northern cardinals. And the very chirpy Tufted titmouse which seems to be everywhere.

But a week or so ago, I heard something in the distance and Merlin popped up with:

I was pretty excited about this. Canada geese make appearances down here, but not all that often. So I was looking around and looking around and I turned a corner in downtown Winter Park and saw:

‘Twas the Winter Park St. Patrick’s Day parade. These folks were squawking like a flock of geese. And I say that with no disrespect to geese.

Enjoy your day. Eat mo’ Reubens, drink mo’ Guinness.