What Do You Feed A Leprechaun?
This is a great story from regular visitor to this site, Jake. Plus I have had the pleasure to hear this story in person. It’s not that long and you have to, (have to!) get to the end.
I once worked with a very lovely woman on a Paediatric Rehabilitation unit at a hospital here in Edmonton. She happened to have an older son who suffered from schizophrenia to the extent that he could not live on his own and so he lived with her and she managed her work schedule around caring for him. Most of the days she worked, she was able to arrange for someone to look after her son or to at least check in on him to make sure that he was okay, however on this particular day no help was available so when she arrived at work she was quite rightly on edge and a bit more distractable than usual.
That afternoon she phoned home to make sure everything was going well. She seemed troubled and when a co-worker asked her how things were she replied,
“I’m not sure. He seems a bit off. A little erratic if you know what I mean.”
She had just finished assuring herself though that things were okay and that there was only a few more hours on shift before she left for home when the unit clerk paged her to inform her that her son had called and was on the line for her with a question.
“What does he want to ask me?” she asked the clerk.
“He wouldn’t tell me, he was just very insistent that you come to the phone as quickly as you could.”
A few of us who were aware of the situation deliberately hovered near the desk, casually pretending to appear like we were doing something besides eavesdropping in on the conversation. We were disappointed though when the extent of the phone call was:
“Honey, I have absolutely no idea. Why on earth would you need to know that? Okay then, I’ll be home soon.”
As she hung up the phone it was clear that she was becoming increasingly worried about the state of things at home so it came as no surprise when she was granted permission to leave work early to go home. As she left, the unit clerk asked what question her son had asked her.
“He asked, ‘What do you feed a leprechaun?’ and wouldn’t tell me why he wanted to know.” She then rushed off. It wasn’t until a few days later that she told us what had actually happened.
The poor, concerned woman sped home to find her son sitting in the hallway in front of the laundry room door which he had locked from the outside. He held a small bag of Skittles candy in his hands and at that moment, was feeding pieces of them underneath the door.
“What are you doing?” she asked her son, admittedly less worried to find him whole and in one piece but was now wondering what exactly was going on.
“I thought candy would work for leprechaun food and this was all we had here,” he stated back to her in an obvious sort of way.
“But why do you have the door locked?” she continued.
“Well I don’t want the leprechaun to escape!” was again the obvious reply.
She later revealed that the reason she became worried was because, up until that point, her son had been coping with his mental illness very well with the current medications he was on and she took the situation to be a very serious lapse in his condition.
“Alright, everything’s okay now so let’s go upstairs,” she said as she moved her son towards the stairs and unlocked the laundry door.
As the door opened she was confronted by a man who, for politically correct reasons we must refer to as a ‘little person’, sitting on top of the dryer with the most terrified look on his face. He wore black dress pants, a white button up shirt with a collar and a nametag, a black tie and was tightly clutching his backpack. The little person was visibly shaken and upset as he explained that he was a missionary from a particular church denomination and was going door to door sharing his message when he came to her door and was invited in by her son. The son, innocently thinking that he had come across a leprechaun, had locked him in the laundry room and later proposed that he had intended to ‘keep him for wishes’.
If only we could. Ohhhh if only we could…
Everything ended amicably and that, is my best story ever.
Perhaps, we could make this a meme? What’s your best story ever?