Growing up I wasn't subjected to too many superstitions. Friday the 13th was just another day on the calendar. I walked under ladders, stepped on cracks, broke mirrors, etc. without a care in the world or knowledge of their supposed repercussions
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The one I can't figure out is why I subconsciously feel the need to tap my spoon three times on the rim of my mug after stirring sugar into tea or coffee.
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Knock, Knock, Knock, Penny!
Knock, Knock, Knock, Penny!
Knock, Knock, Knock, Penny!
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Not at my house! I do the same thing - if I can rinse it off, it gets used. I drop raw chicken on the floor all the time! XD
I liked the ending of this piece, it really tied the whole thing together for me - it seemed like it was just waxing poetic about superstitions, but I liked coming to the end and finding the concept of treating people's beliefs with respect and an open mind.
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I mentioned the because I had a germophobe aunt that would refuse to eat something if she saw you touch it or taste it and put the spoon back in.
One time she was nagging me during dinner and I told her, "Leave me alone or I'll touch your food."
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