Old Wives' Tales

It's a bit after six and I am under the covers with my pajamas on. Heh. Erin and Keira are finishing homework . . . there's talk of a snow day tomorrow, and even though it doesn't affect me anymore, I can't help but feel a bit of anticipation. Silly, I know, but at least my pajamas aren't inside out. Do you remember the old wives' tales that always went along with an impending snow day? I always wore my pajamas inside out, and I might've done a snow dance or two. Some kids would put spoons under their pillows . . . never understood that one. Because my methods made so much more sense, of course.

What about the superstition that when your ears ring, someone's talking about you? Obviously it's untrue, but whenever it happens I can't help but imagine who'd be talking about me, whether or not I'd want to hear what they're saying, etc. Then I think about celebrities, and the severe tinnitus they each must suffer from. Poor Britney.

Sometimes I think about people I've had obscure run-ins with; it's weird, because attaching specific thought to an unknown person somewhere just makes the world seem so much larger. Like yesterday, my mom and I were in Orlando and we took a bicycle taxi from the convention center to a restaurant . . . the driver (pedaler?) was this guy in his twenties who was finishing his last semester as an accounting major and had an obvious interest in BMX biking . . . attaching a life and goals to this random guy meant he was no longer just a static person, and when you think of how many people you interact with on a daily basis, you can't help but realize how many people are living their lives at the same time.

Now I'm googling (is that an acceptable verb?) old wives' tales . . . there's a bunch about sneezing:

'A little death' (in places where it is believed the soul momentarily leaves the body with the sneeze). We still use the expression 'Bless you' (short for 'God Bless You'). This stems from the times when a sneeze could mean the plague, viz. 'Coughs and sneezes spread diseases'.

Sneeze 'once for a wish, twice for a kiss, three for a letter, four for something better'. In Scotland, a newborn child is said to remain under 'the fairy spells' until it has sneezed for the first time. It was also believed that an idiot could not sneeze, so that a child's first sneeze was important. If you sneeze when talking you are telling the truth (America); three sneezes before breakfast means you will receive a present during the day (Germany); any sneeze is an indication that someone, somewhere, is saying nice things about you (Japan). It is very lucky to sneeze at exactly the same time as someone else you are with.

I take great interest in that, as anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I can't sneeze just once . . . or twice . . . or six times . . . I usually average about eight. I should go to Germany and have countless gifts bestowed upon me.

And speaking of putting on items of clothing inside-out:

It is lucky to put on an item of clothing inside out, although you must not change it until the time you would normally take it off, for the luck to hold. William of Normandy inadvertently put on his shirt of mail back to front just before the Battle of Hastings; when his courtiers pointed out his mistake and said it was a bad omen, quick-thinking William assured them it was not and was in fact a sign that he was about to be changed from a duke into a king.

But enough of those. Thai tea is softly (but insistently) calling me to the kitchen, and the unbent spine of The Kite Runner is playing on my guilt for not having read more this month.