Have no fear. We have no problems sticking out our proverbial tongues at silly superstitions and old wives' tales (like old husbands never tell any tales? Most that I know tell them over, and over, and over...you get the idea), but we are not dumb enough to actually follow through. The black cat has a little patch of white hair under her chin, Spence is actually behind the ladder, and I just scored that awesome mirrored tray off of One King's Lane for a great price so no way that was meeting the pavement. Are the Buehlmans silly? Absolutely. Stupid? Not when it comes to bad mojo. So, dear Friday the Thirteenth, consider this an homage to you paid with the utmost respect. After the picture we turned around three times, threw salt over our shoulders and spit on the ground. Just to be safe.
I found it interesting that Friday was also "Blame Someone Else Day." I think that is pretty fitting since a lot of people like to blame their troubles on something superfluous (SAT word, score!) like Friday the thirteenth. A particular day with a particular number has absolutely nothing to do with you dropping the toast, jelly side down, on your white carpet this morning. (And if you think I am kissing Friday the Thirteenth's butt right now, you would be right.)
Blame Someone Else Day was pretty fun...
but quickly turned ugly with a litany of "it was her/his fault"s and "nuh uh, wasn't me"s. Fortunately, we were saved by the fact that it was also "Rubber Duckie Day" and you know how they roll. If something is amiss, you know the duckie did it.