A friend from high school turned 58 today on Friday the 13th! She was born on a Friday the 13th, and, guess what? 5 + 8 = 13. That’s pretty lucky. For years, until I was 13 and met this friend and another born on April 13th, who both set me straight and showed me calendars from the year of our birthday to prove how wrong I was, I thought I was born on a Friday the 13th in January.
Turns out I was born on a Wednesday. My mom had 3 kids close together and couldn’t remember the day of the week I was born. My dad only knew he was working out of town and came home on Wednesdays and Fridays. So I was therefore born on one of those days. Thirteen years of thinking I’d been born on Friday the 13th flew out the window! I had to console myself with being born on the 13th day of the 13th month.
Happy birthday to everyone born on the 13th of a month, but especially to the Friday the 13th babies! It’s not unlucky. We’re a bit weird, but, hey, weird is wonderful. Embrace it!