“So are you going to kiss the stone or what?” I was with my brother standing in front of the infamous Blarney stone.
“I don’t think so; I mean how many germs have got to be on that thing?”
“Probably thousands and you will get cooties. Your lips will fall of!” I was really enjoying this; giving the little germaphobe the gears.
He gave me a stricken look, and then he realized I was kidding and cursed a blue streak.
Just to bug him further I kissed the stone and made smoochy sounds. This made him run away screaming.
“Meanie!” he yelled.
“Moron!” I retorted.
Several people gave me a shocked look like I shouldn’t call the little brat names. i shrugged and caught up to Evan.
Let’s go see the snakes St. Patrick drove out of Ireland.
I looked at him and said: “For one thing he never did drive the snakes out of Ireland.”
My brother looked at me like I was full of blarney. “Why not?”
“No cars dummy!” Once again I was pulling his leg. He caught me this time.
“Actually, there were no snakes in Ireland at the time. It’s just an Irish myth.”
“I don’t believe you!” he stood there with his arms crossed on his chest looking stubborn and challenging me once again.
“Fine! Google it.”
By that time our parents had returned from the castle tour. My pesky brother was regaling my parents with all the lies I told him. Mom was taking it all in but my father winked at me knowingly. We headed back to the tour bus to take us back to our hotel.