My Love Interest is always warning me to watch what I say. If I say something about us having good fortune she tells me to be quiet for fear of jinxing us. If I express dread towards negative possibilities this could also potentially jinx us. Worse yet if I mock innocent standerbys this could cause bad karma. This greatly narrows my possible topics of conversations. No longer can I start a sentence with “You know what would be gross” or “I can’t believe I haven’t thrown up in nine years” or “Did you see that 400 pound man at the all you can eat buffet”.
Lately I am coming around to her way of thinking. One of my favorite pastimes used to be pointing, laughing at and mocking hunchbacks. Now my back has gone out causing me to be terribly misshapen so that when I take my shirt off at the beach no longer are kids simply calling me Chewbacca, but rather Quasimodo Chewbacca.
Even worse on the karma scale was my pride. I was always so proud of how little I had. I figured when zombies attacked while everyone was wondering what to save, I would be the first one on higher ground since I had nothing. But the amazing thing about having a child is that for every pound they carry, they come with ten pounds of merchandise. There is a saying that a baby comes with loaves of bread under their arms, but no mention of the clothes, toys, baby furniture, diapers, wipies, and baby hangers. It doesn’t end, and now my daughter just mocks me. Her new thing is crawling up to her drawers and emptying them of all her clothes piling them on the floor. If I go and tidy it up she does it again or she crawls over to her wardrobe and empties out all her shoes.
I can not yet tell if she does it in solidarity with my philosophy that material objects are meaningless or if she just likes to see her father’s obsessive compulsive disorder in action.