The King of Leprechaun Trap Makers

In case you're wondering, that's who I'm married to: The King of Leprechaun Trap Makers. I know, I know, it may not be a title that most men covet, but it belongs to Kris now anyway, by his own admission.

This all started about week ago when Colin brought home from kindergarten a green sheet of paper with a drawing on it, titled "How to Make a Leprechaun Trap." The first line on this paper said, "This will be a fun project for you and your child to do together."

Let me digress for a moment from my original subject... Correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't homework assignments be for THE CHILD? This is obviously not a project a 6 year-old can tackle on their own. If it's coming home with directions for both of us, in my opnion, it's not age-appropriate. I'm all for hangin' out with my kid, but shouldn't I get to choose how I do that? Not to mention the fact that as parents I've done more homework in the 8 years since A.J. started school than the entire 12 years I attended myself. We've covered solar system mobiles, shoebox diaramas (between the four kids, I think we've done about a dozen!) and book reports in all shapes and sizes. For you parents of younger kids, book reports are no longer just for high schoolers. They start in first grade and encompass all sorts of posters, drawings, coffee cans, paper plates and paints.

Anyway, back to the King. When the assignment came home, I very gently delegated it to my husband. After all, building things seems like a daddy thing to do, right? I figured he'd cover a shoebox with some green construction paper, prop it up with a dowel, throw some plastic gold coins under it and call it good. Little did I realize that building a Leprechaun trap for a child in kindergarten would encompass sketches, power tools (plural, mind you), a trip to Ace Hardware, an air compressor and a band-aid. How silly of me! How could I not have imagined that my fun-loving husband (who is an exceptional daddy, by the way) would turn something relatively simple into four hours of swearing. For a time yesterday afternoon, I was worried that Colin wouldn't even be permitted to help. Needless to say, the trap was finished long after Colin was dreaming of pots of gold and rainbows. I'll let you know how it goes at school today...