What an interesting date! I wonder if it means something. Should I buy a lottery ticket just in case? I find meaning where there is none. This is largely due to an overly superstitious upbringing. Worried I might actually break her back, my mother trained me to have the most awkward gait to avoid cracks in the sidewalk. Her superstitions taught me social lessons through practical application. And while the laughing sometimes made me a skosh self-conscious, as an adult I am immune to outright laughing.
I have since perfected my gait and the newly learned crack-stomping is almost unoticeable to the naked eye of the average passerby. I am also pleased to announce my mother’s back is in tip-top shape. Though, one could question her mental stability. Incidentally, I can now laugh at just about anything to do with myself (or you, doesn’t matter). And when people point and laugh at my eccentric behavior, as happens on a regular basis, I join them and rapidly watch the confusion trickle over their innocent little faces. My mother’s living-will bequeathed upon me the vast estate of our family humor and the empire of its intellect.
I am constantly refusing to buy into superstitions and not simply because I wish to walk in a normal manner. With every opportunity I walk under ladders, spill salt, cross paths with black cats; unless the black cat has fleas, in which case I curse the owner of its mother, asking, “WHY? OH, WHY DID YOU NOT LISTEN TO BOB BARKER?” I have even broken a mirror or two in my life. Though, there is enough circumstantial evidence to prove the theory of 7 years bad luck. But I would counter with pride that it is not luck, it is will that has afforded me such an interesting life. Will coupled with poor choices, mixed in with some olived naivety and voila…a disaster cocktail is born. Ah, well… some of us learn the hard way!