Theory

I despise (hate, detest, abhor, loathe, hate...oh I said that already) the fear I feel of jinxes.
But it IS real. The fear, I mean. And the jinxes.
So, how do I go about telling you the good stuff?
The only thing I can think to improve my odds is to first couch it in a steaming pile of complaints. Allow me to dump this:

• When I put sunflower seed butter on Roo's toast tonight instead of Earth Balance, he threw a football at my head. At close range.
• I am pretty sure I could have paid for Julia's red carpet dress with what I've spent so far on Good Nights.
• My car is on a recall list for a possible defect that terrifies me too much to describe to you in a post about jinxes. The dealership says it can't help me with the fix for month.
• My son's teachers want him to learn to snap his own pants, and we are trying, but it doesn't help that he can't see the snap over his melon belly. No store I can find has sizes that fit him. Size 5husky are too tight, size 6husky are too long, and it's too cold for shorts.
• Peaches has hit a phase of, um, okay, disequilibrium. But incessent whining and shrill screaming and absurd, obsessive demands make me want to describe it as b*tchiness. Sorry, I should have more patience.
• I tried nine times to find out about Roo's day. Every answer one of the various and detailed answers he gave came from his Peter Pan CD.
• Tomorrow I get to take 60 kindergarten students on a full day field trip to an art museum renowned not so much for its child-friendly art but for its gardens --- during the worst series of endless storms to have hit these parts in some time. I am listening to hail fall as I write this. The museum officials do not allow you to eat inside, and they do not have shelter where you can eat outside, and there are NOT enough bathrooms to suit me. This is how I spend my "vacation" days.

Okay, on the off chance anyone is still with me, I posit this theory, owning that it may be entirely wrong, and also that the deities might be about to smite me:

The Rooster seems like he is emerging. We spent the last year giving him some medication we believed would help him regulate his aggression, and when we learned we had to wean him off it I felt terrified, only to find out that with every level we reduce on his medication, he appears more peaceful, present, communicative, and happy. Now I find myself looking forward to April when he'll be completely chemical free.

I CANNOT BELIEVE I JUST TOLD YOU THAT. AND ON A NIGHT WHERE WE'VE HAD THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.

Climbing UNDER my bed now...

Please do a purification ritual on my behalf, send our family any of your spare good karma, and wrap the rooster in a protective force field. Knock on something, burn some incense, and call me mean names. Anything, anything, but keep away the jinxy deities.