Beware: Sarchasm Abounds
.
I need a t-shirt that delineates my family tree by nationality. Or even better, one that simply reads "Fuck You, I'm Welsh."

Because _mixed_
/ mixed Welsh
/ \ mixed Sicilian Welsh
/ \ \ mixed Dutch Sicilian Welsh
/ \ \ \ N. A. Irish Dutch Sic. Welsh
Red hair notwithstanding, I'm no more
Irish than you


Seems like a bit much to squeeze on a t-shirt, don't you think?


Seriously. Today I'm the new black. Today everyone wants to show off their diversity awareness training by coming up to me (and others like me) to say, "You're Irish! You're so lucky today." And when I reply, "Actually, I'm not Irish." They cheerfully let me know, "That's ok. Everyone is Irish today."
No. Wishful thinking won't change my geneology, sorry.

That's not the worst of it, either. Since I don't wear green on March 17th, people speculate aloud on where I might be hiding the green. Sometimes they want to see my socks; unbelieving that I might not want to celebrate a man who crusaded against paganism. Sometimes they insist that I have green underwear on.
Yes, with your mighty x-ray vision, you can tell what color my panties are. Good for you.