Each time I grin into the mirror to find a hunk of seaweed wrapped around my teeth, I am reminded of my family background.
And the punch line is not that, like free-floating kelp, our clan languishes about life's crashing tides without any roots. Rather it is that we are partially green. As in half-moored in Ireland.
"The only part of you that's Irish," snits my wife, "is that you're full of blarney."