Today on the way to school, my daughter observed that it was, indeed, October 13. She's all about the October vibe, loving that every day brings her closer to Halloween. As a result, the number 13 somehow feels more significant to her this month than it does during any other month. She's also been loving the word "triskaidekaphobia" lately, since her teacher (ahem, me) gave the class this word as a bonus on a spelling test not long ago.
Still, as excited as the kid was about the 13th, I couldn't get over the fact that it was Monday, and the most difficult part of Monday at that -- a Monday morning, the worst prescription for a post-weekend bliss hangover. Monday is such a killjoy.
So Z and I ended up launching into a debate on the way to school: which is more ominous, Monday the 13th, or Friday the 13th?
All in all, Monday the 13th actually wasn't so bad, though. We survived, which is more than I can say for some people associated with the whole Friday the 13th school of thought.
On the way home this afternoon, the clouds were so gray they were practically purple. I know, you're thinking, ominous, right? No way. I saw the sky and swooned. I love weather like this. It's go-right-home-and-get-cozy weather, the best kind.
However, once I arrived at home, my husband reported, "I think I'm allergic to water," prompting yet another odd debate. This guy could be ON Big Bang Theory...and oh my gosh, if you saw last week's episode (2.3) and then spent a week in the life at this house, you'd know exactly what I mean.