Our son Geoffrey is technically Irish because he was born in Ireland. But, naturally, I had to make sure that he would legally be both Irish and American. You’d be amazed at how patriotic you become when you move out of your home country.

Being pragmatic, I requested an American birth certificate and then applied for a USA passport when he was born, so now he has two passports and two birth certs. He is fortunate to have dual citizenship and I hope he will take full advantage of all the wonderful opportunities that this will afford him in the future.

Of course, I practically have him admitted to Harvard on a full scholarship straight after his Irish secondary schooling. A mother can dream, right?

It’s fascinating to observe both his Irish and American taste characteristics as he grows up. He definitely has a distinct love of food, certain things more than others.

The best of the Irish traits has to be his absolute adoration for tea. He simply loves to sip cups of tea with loads of milk and copious amounts of sugar cubes. It started when he was about two and now he will have a cup of tea nearly every afternoon, on it’s own or with a piece of cake or possibly a slice of brown bread with butter and raspberry jam.

He insists on doing it all on his own – pressing the boil button on the kettle, steeping his Barry’s tea bag in his individual little teapot, putting milk into the tiny pouring cup, bringing over the dainty little brown sugar cubes along with his distinctive porcelain cup and saucer and special teaspoon. It has become his ritual.

I suppose he picked up his teatime traditions from everyone around him here on the farm, but I personally think it’s innate because I rarely drink tea and I don’t remember small children taking up customary coffee drinking like our parents did in the US. In fact, just the opposite, my childhood friends and I thought that coffee was the most disgusting smelling and bitter tasting drink of all time. We could not fathom how anyone could bear to drink it every day. I think Geoffrey’s fondness for tea is part of his Irish makeup, and I have to say it is quite endearing indeed.

On the other hand, he cannot live without mac and cheese. By mac and cheese I mean that all-American, boxed-up macaroni and cheese. We stock up on Annie’s Organic during each trip to the US, so I always have it at hand. Much to my chagrin, he will eat my homemade version but still prefers the box. One of his all-time favorite lunches is a hot dog in a bun with a side of mac and cheese. Doesn’t get much more American than that.

Nonetheless, that aul’ Irish spirit trumps this love of mac and cheese because Geoffrey absolutely deplores peanut butter. To me, this is unfathomable because peanut butter is practically its own food group in the US. Kids worship it. I’ve tried and tried but can’t get him to eat a peanut butter and jam sandwich. But I’m sure I’ll keep trying.

I’ll be taking a short break from these pages in order to finish up my manuscript for my book, scheduled to be published here in Ireland and the USA in 2015. See you again soon. CL