I am not superstitious, but I am a little stitious.
I remember the first time I got "my cards read," I was my youngest girl's age (12 going on 42) and it freaked me out, big time.
Her name was Charlotte, she was a friend of my Aunt Theresa's and she practiced cartomancy, which sounds an awful lot like gastromancy, but has nothing to do with being romantically involved with someone who works for the gas company -- although, considering today's economy, it certainly would be a perk.
"You will marry a man, with 5 letters in his name and you will have 4 children."
You See?!? Garth (not his real name) has five letters in his name, for real too!
"Your brother will have a career in the Army and marry the Colonel's daughter."
BINGO!!! Although, I'm not exactly sure what rank my SIL's father was. Still, close enough, right?!?
"You and your children will live a long and happy life."
Still working on that one...[knocks on wood until knuckles bleed]...because the Hungarian in me wants to believe in divination and my "old world" upbringing dictates that we are indeed each blessed with certain gifts, but living with perhaps the BIGGEST skeptic on Earth has tempered all that.
Aaaaaand then I just remind my husband, Garth (not his real name) about the time I fed him chicken on New Year's Day (=) a REAL BIG "Oh no you did'int" and precursor for some REAL BAD juju for the coming year, according to Hungarian folklore.
It was also the year when things started to go bad, and kept getting worse:
- My husband suffered from one health issue after another
- Heather was diagnosed with severe colic
- I endured months of sleep deprivation, while dealing with PPD
- While our two-year-old contracted a viral infection
- That would last for the next three years
Call it bad luck, whatever, I've served ham every New Year's Day since then, just in case.
"I got my cards read, for the first time, the other day."
My MIL is still recovering from breaking her ankle (in three places, UGH!) over the summer, so we ran over to their place today to help her get a few chores done around the house.
"It was really cool, Grandma!"
I was out in the den watching the football game with my FIL (YES! It's a chore!) and headed back into their bedroom to check on my MIL.
"The woman was very specific and detailed about stuff."
I made a mental note to reacquaint our oldest daughter with my "Quit talking, about whatever it is you are talking about!" face, not quite knowing what my MIL thought about psychics, one way or the other and, well, she's still sort of getting used to having me as a DIL and stuff.
"I know it sounds weird, but it was sort of cool, too."
I watched as my MIL's eyes went REAL WIDE and prepared myself for the "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT-type" accusations, that would never come.
"Well, I was four-years-old when I told your great-grandmother I would marry someone from Massachusetts."
Good thing Thanksgiving is another 4 days away, because it's going to take me THAT long to scrape my husband's chin from off of the floor!
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