When I married my husband, I also married The Jinx.
The Jinx can apply to anything — the Red Sox, a speeding ticket, the weather, or in my case, illness.
It’s when my guard is down and I carelessly remark (or even think) about illness and poof! — someone is sick.
Make no mistake — it’s the work of The Jinx. When my husband and I were dating, The Jinx applied almost exclusively to the Red Sox. I quickly learned not to make the gravest of errors — uttering a comment when the Sox were up, because somehow, every time, they lost that lead. The Jinx. You get the idea.
After years of dating and years of marriage, I respect and fear The Jinx. In fact, before we had children, I thought (cockily) I had mastered The Jinx. That mere novice thought proves the power of The Jinx. When I least expect it, she works her dark magic.
I can not count the times that I have brought her wrath down upon my children and my family. The most recent — this afternoon. I can’t even remember if I said this out loud or just thought it, but the gist: I wondered how M could possibly have missed out on the fever virus that obliterated school last week.
A mere few hours later, M went from a frolicking beach boy to a feverish child.
Today’s gift: this blog post (the documentation — in black-and-white — reminding me to NEVER, ever forget the power of The Jinx).
I really hope The Jinx doesn’t apply to blog posts.