I have never considered myself too superstitious, but I have to admit the more I think about it the more I realize what ridiculous things I find myself doing. After all I do find myself knocking on wood quite a lot, and just the other day Tabitha was all excited to find a penny in the parking lot and I found myself shouting, "Don't pick it up! It's heads down! That's bad luck!" I got the look I know I deserved -the my mom is crazy look- and she picked up anyway. I don't think that her day was filled with bad luck either. As if my children don't think I am crazy enough they occasionally get salt thrown into their faces if they come up behind me while I am baking. And since I can't remember which shoulder to throw it over they get a double shot thrown at them just to ensure all my bases are covered. I have yet to break a mirror (knock on wood) but I have read that after you break one you can reverse the bad luck of seven years curse by burying the broken pieces of glass. I am not sure I would go this far but knowing me I just might.
I had to ask myself what would make me do these things. Being a mother I know now that children usually blame their poor mothers when they are messed up but this time I am blaming my dad. :) After all he was the first person to put a superstition into my head. He told me that if I ate a watermelon seed a watermelon would grow in my stomach. When you are 5 you believe what your dad tells you so I made sure I carefully picked out all the seeds, including the white ones, just in case. So dad, you get all the credit if my children ever find me digging in the back yard to bury broken glass.
Happy Friday the 13th!!!!!
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