My Wild Irish Time
by Nancy Nau Sullivan
It was a wild Easter in Webster Groves, Missouri, that year. My young sons were smoking on the third floor and throwing cigarette butts on to the den roof (unbeknownst). My sister-in-law was doing jumping jacks and other muscle-bending exercises in the den with my sisters, and the kitchen pulsed with eaters, drinkers, and laughers over ham and scalloped potatoes. Church and the egg hunt were done with; now the revelry began in earnest. This was pretty much holiday life in the Nau-Sullivan household.
