I'm writing this today, because the festivities may just be too much on Friday the 13th that I just may not have time to jot a note.
I have a weird superstition about the number four. So much so that when we delivered our last baby, the nurse told us we were to go to delivery room number 4. Hunka Hunka looked at me with great understanding as my face and eyes filled with panic and fear. He turned around and asked the nurse if we couldn't have another room, without implicating his neurotic wife. The nurses reacted with disbelief and rolling eyes, but we were sent to room number ONE, thank you very much.
That day was October 12th, 2005 around 10pm. They next morning was Thursday October 13th and our third son rolled into the world as healthy and beautiful as could be. Of course, all thanks to room number ONE.
It reminds me of the book and movie Where the Heart Is where a pregnant girl lives in the Walmart and has a weird unrational thing about the number five. As she labored in one of aisles certain she was about to give birth, she looks up and sees that she is aisle number 5. She crawled to another aisle to deliver her baby. All I could think about was Oh I hope she doesn't go to aisle number four!
Number 13 not a problem. Number four, no thanks.