Friday the 13th

I have a history of having NO LUCK. I've never so much as won a game of bingo in elementary school. I did win a mug on my brother in law's blog drawing once, but I think there were less names in that hat than there were in my class when we played bingo.

Occasionally, the wind will blow in a certain direction, drawing black cats in my direction. I'll wake up to find that it's Friday the 13th, knock over the salt when making my oatmeal, step out my door on a crack, only to look up and find that I'm standing under a ladder because the HOA just happened to decide to clean the gutters over my house at that moment. Okay, so those things didn't quite happen to me, but mainly because I've yet to go outside. But that doesn't mean that things are going my way.

Already this morning, the dog threw up on the floor and I found a hole in the bottom of my slipper. I took a bite of my "fresh" muffin I bought from Costco last night (the giant, delicious ones) and it tasted like expired foods smell....they're brand new! The baby smeared his oatmeal covered face on my sleeve and decided to make TWO stinky diapers before 9am. I have errands to run today, but I am so very tempted to just stay inside, where I can keep my "accidents" to a minimum, and hope that nothing major happens, like the roof caving in on my head.

I have my mother to thank for my minimal luck - she is just as clumsy as I am. Oh, and she named me Mallory, which happens to be Old French for "unlucky". I first learned this when I was a teenager, and it then explained why, no matter how many times I called the radio station, I was never caller 7. Now, I just don't even try.

So, as I venture out this "freaky Friday", please cross your fingers and hold onto your rabbit's foot, and hope that something "unfortunate" doesn't happen to the woman who can't win.