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Mark loved St. Patrick’s Day. While he certainly didn’t have a smidgen of Irish in ‘em, Mark’s green eyes were smilin’ every year on March 17th, when he took off work for the day and celebrated the good ol’ Irish way, throwing back pints with his favorite lads down at the Harp at the top o’ the mornin.’

However, when becoming a principal pretty much coincided with becoming a dad, responsibility beckoned. Mark traded in his St. Patty’s Day drinking shoes for some wild and crazy clover pants which he wore to school every year for St. Patrick’s Day…and for Pajama Day…and for any other day with a built in excuse to roll outta bed wearing those shamrock bad boys, pick out his hair, and talk smack to anyone else not clothed from head to toe in lucky charms. He had the gift of gab and as luck would have it, I was his lassie. Lucky me.