I am too logical and science-y minded to believe in superstition, but it's funny how the thoughts pop into your mind anyway. When I was a teenager, I used to play the radio-pop-horoscope game: I'd say, right, the next song on the radio will have some predictive resonance for my near future (or, in teenage-speak: the words will tell me if some boy likes me.)
Today I said, right, the next song on the radio will reveal something about the bambino inside. The song that followed? I've got you under my skin. Ah, I see. I'd be okay with metaphorical. I wasn't expecting the literal.
Later I was changing pillowcases and I could only find 3 out of 4 matching ones. I started to think, hmm, what does that mean? Something bad? I had to lasso the frisky pony of my mind and tell it not to be irrational.
I like the names of some of the classes I take Hugh to. We used to go to Mini Music Makers. Now we go to Boogie Babies. Earlier I bought him a heart-shaped helium balloon from a charity shop. He carried it round all day (like Winnie the Pooh) and referred to it as his 'boon'.