Other than the things I dislike there are lots of things I do like about myself:
To name one: I am not superstitious. I will sit out any Friday, 13th, at its leisure. No hotel can fool me. They may put me into Number 14 but I know that, in reality, it’s Number 13.
Obviously I’ll knock wood for good luck. Who wouldn’t? Particularly the moment you spout some utter nonsense. In the hope no one will remember.
My father startled me once upon a time. He is a rational man. And then, accidentally, he spilled some sugar onto the table cloth. No idea where my mother was at the time. Probably in hospital giving birth to my youngest sister. Judging by my father’s look he was horrified (not by my youngest sister, the sugar) and asked me to clean it up. Thus I met superstition. Many years later I smashed a mirror. How do they say: “Seven years of misfortune”. I wouldn’t know. I have actually been quite happy since.
So, Sweethearts, what does give you the colly wobbles? Brings out the child in you frightened in the dark? Makes you throw a penny (or is it salt) over your shoulder? And, of course, makes you touch wood for good luck?