VICTORA: Leprechauns' pranks will end all too soon

When my nieces were young, my brother and sister-in-law used to play tricks on them right before St. Patrick’s Day.

Things would be misplaced or hidden. A chair might find its way onto the bed. Shirts might be turned inside out. An empty box of cereal might find its way back into the cupboard.

It would all be blamed on leprechauns, though of course it was almost exclusively my older brother.  I think he had more fun with it than his girls did.

When my husband and I had kids, we adopted many of their fun holiday traditions. We passed on the leprechaun invasion.

It seemed like a lot of extra work, which we already had enough of. And, with three kids less than four years apart, we already had plenty of leprechauns in the house.

We never saw one, but they left a trail of mischief.

The bathroom door would turn up locked, even though no one was in there and no one admitted to pushing the button. The shower would be left on so that whoever leaned in to turn on the bathwater would get a blast of cold water on their head.

Empty cereal boxes in the cabinet were a routine finding, and we routinely found naked toilet paper rolls in the bathroom.

Of course, no one but leprechauns could have done any of these things.

No one had popped the last bag of popcorn.

No one had squeezed out a pale green slug of toothpaste onto the side of the bathroom sink.

No one had put clean clothes back in the laundry because it was easier than hanging them in a closet.

No one left the chair in the middle of the room, the wet towel on my bed or the half-drunk Icee in the seat pocket of the van.

And, to this day, no one fesses up to most of these little annoyances.

Sure, with good detective work, I can track the culprits down. Sometimes I do. Sometimes it’s easier to just shrug and move on to the next moment.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in almost 14 years or parenting, it’s that everything goes by too fast.

The braces, the cuddles, the games, the good-night kisses — one day they’re a daily part of life. The next, they’re obsolete.

In a blink, my oldest will be in high school, my youngest will be in middle school and I will stare at pictures from a few months earlier and marvel at how much they have changed.

Blink again and it will just be my husband and me, rattling around our four-bedroom home, reminiscing about the days when chaos reigned.

Yes, there will be toilet paper when we sit down and reach.

The grocery list will be updated with missing items and clothes that appear in the laundry will actually have been worn.

But it will be quiet and a bit lonely and definitely strange.

I’ll miss my little leprechauns.