Alert: You must read last night’s post for tonight to make any sense. It’s like homework, only it makes more sense if you study it while drinking a cold beer. So less like homework, and more like a frat party, circa 1994.

So, did I tell you?  OH HONEYS, I told you.  Jinx Day…bought, paid for, signed, sealed, and delivered.

It started innocently enough with a ruined batch of jam.  It happens.  Then the cats planned a Shawshank Redemption reenactment and created an escape hatch in the screen.  Out they went.  Try catching and depositing 3 cats back into a house who keep jumping right back out of the hole again.  It took me 3 full escapes to find it. We had friends over for a play date, so I had a cheering squad during my ridiculous backyard antics. Did I mention we were in the middle of  unearthing a dinosaur from plaster of Paris, and I completed the entire cat rescue with a chunk of it in my eye? Luckily the baby is slow, and Cyrus comes when called.  Sydney?  She took one step outside and walked right back in.  I’m pretty sure she looked me in the eye and said, “To hell with this Momma.  I’m getting too old for this shit.”

I was still in a great mood, even after I got a nasty sunburn on my back (what?!…my first in probably 20 years).  I proceeded to stub my toe, and then take the girls to the grocery after 5 pm, which went as smoothly as you might imagine.  This entire paragraph is my fault, so I didn’t smell it…the stinky aroma of JINX.

When we got home, I complained about my foot, and Sara looked down and mentioned it might have something to do with the blood leaking out between my toes. Turns out, I somehow managed to step on glass in the same area of the injury, and walked through the grocery for an hour with 3 bleeding cuts and a piece of glass embedded under my foot.  And my back is on fire. Kelly mentioned these “incidents” might explain my newly soured mood, and perhaps I could forgive them for acting like maniacs in the store?  Yes, these are all possibilities.

When Greg came home, I hobbled outside to water my roses thistle garden, and I heard every alarm in the house go off at once.  The girls were in the tub, so you can imagine where that water went. Not on my roses, this much I know. Greg yelled out through the screened door (aiding and abetting Feline Escape #4 for the day), “Lori! Every alarm is going off and I can’t figure out why!  The Mac won’t charge, the girls are wet and screaming, the A/C filter suddenly needs changed, and we’re out of cat food and softener salt! What on earth is going on inside the house?!”

Momma: JINX!  I called a jinx!

Daddy: OH!  That’s right.  OK, back to it then.

I came inside to find the vacuum out. Never a good sign after the kids are in bed.

Daddy: The repair of one of the “things” required a new hole in a wall.  Better if you don’t know where.  I’ve cleaned it up.

Momma: Why is there a jewelry repair kit out…and a hair dryer?

Daddy: Dagny chewed through the computer charging wire.  I fixed it too.

Momma: I think I broke my toe and I’m out of vodka.

Daddy: That sucks.  You called the jinx.

There is only one remedy for a jinx: cancel all evening plans, open a cold beer, watch Sex and the City reruns, and go to be early. Jinx’s die at 11:11 if you wish hard enough on your alarm clock.  This is perhaps a bit of Lori-Math, but to quote “Ron Burgundy”: 60% of the time, it works every time.  Godspeed my friends, Godspeed.