Of All the Luck

I am not a lucky person.  It's not that I never win things, it's that when I win things it's stuff like "Someone needs to clean up the port-a-potties at Girls Camp and that person is... Bonnie."  (One of the few things I've actually had my name drawn out of a bag for).  If our government ever starts instituting the Hunger Games I'm going to have to hitch a ride out of the country faster than you can say, "despot."

But when it comes to good things, I never win.  Case in point, today at Kohl's I presented a coupon for 20% off my purchase.  The cashier handed me a stack of scratch-off cards and said, "Here, see if one of these will get you 30% off."

I pulled out a nickel and scratched.  And scratched.  And scratched.  15% off, 15% off, 15% off...  You see where this is going.  A wad of ten used scratch-off cards later and I had only gone downhill from my original coupon.

Finally the cashier said, "Look, if you can win me in Rock, Paper, Scissors, I'll give you 30% off."

I had Michael play instead.  I'm not dumb.

(Although, seriously, if that's all it takes, just give me the dang 30% off!)

This comes directly on the heels of last Friday.  Now, I'm not superstitious.  I'll step on cracks and walk under ladders and open umbrellas inside.  But I admit that it did give me pause when I confiscated a handheld mirror from Leah and promptly dropped it on the bathroom floor, where it shattered.

"Do you think it's bad luck to break a mirror on Friday the 13th?" I asked David.

Four hours later I was awakened by Matthew's screaming.  I stumbled into his bedroom without my glasses on (read: totally blind) and managed not to step on any toys as I made my way toward his bed.  "Matthew, what's the matter?" I asked... right as my left hand came to rest in a gigantic pile of vomit.

"I barfed!" he wailed.

Yes, thank you.  Noted.

I took him straight to the shower where he screamed his way through a quick scrubdown.  Then I handed him to David for re-jammy-ing and snuggling and spent the next hour cleaning vomit-covered bedding and clothing and wondering if it was my stomach that was going to be next in line for the toilet.

Thankfully, it appeared to be a fluke because he was fine the next day and there has been no puking since then.

Of course, by saying so I've probably jinxed myself.  I know I said I'm not superstitious, but seriously...

Will throwing salt over my left shoulder fix that?