Hats on the Bed and other Superstitions

Hats on the Bed and other Superstitions

I am not superstitious. Not a bit. I don’t even say “Bless You” when someone sneezes. I ignore the action just as a polite person should when someone coughs or a bodily function is made audible. And when I myself do, I say “Excuse Me”, just as if I belched, farted or made some other odd noise that may have disturbed someone. But I don’t believe my soul has left my body when I sneezed, not even for a moment.

 

A black cat crossing my path won’t affect me unless I trip over it in the dark. Spilled salt, not a bit other than not happy to have the grit on my nice floors, but not worth crying over. And if you throw some over your shoulder (at demons) how does that negate the spilled salt other than making a bigger mess for me to sweep up? Breaking a mirror gives 7 years bad luck? Well, if that is true, considering all I have broken, I should just give it all up.

 

 

I will avoid walking under a ladder mainly to keep from getting hit with paint or brushes, common sense, but otherwise, no biggie. I have always liked the one about Knocking on Wood, wood being considered sacred and all, but due to so much not being real wood these days, I just Knock on Formica. I think it works about the same.

 

There are 100’s. Perhaps 1000’s of superstitions, most I have no clue of thankfully.

 

One, however, I never felt I would have ever come across or had to deal with, until I met my (now) husband Mitch. He is adamant that no hats should be placed on a bed. Really? I found it amusing and thought nothing of it again. Until I dropped a hat on the bed. He went ballistic. Really? I asked him the basis for this and he could not give me anything.

 

 

So that means what? If I set a hat on the bed the sky will fall? One of us will drop dead? Personally I have no concern and fully wish to not be concerned about it, but unfortunately, I LIVE with the man and I have to keep my hats off the beds or live with the wrath of Mitch as he runs over to remove the offending hat and put it elsewhere.

 

This could happen more than it did before, as we both have been collecting hats recently, me for party themes like Derby Day and others, and him in his quest to keep his head warm in the winter and sheltered from the sun now that his hairline has receded. (Thankfully, we recently got him out of baseball caps and into short brim Fedoras which is topic for another blog post down the line.)

 

Fedora hats n hooks

Mitch replaced all his ball caps with Fedoras this year
Beginning to collect cold weather models which are stored upstairs for now

Living with someone who is superstitious is annoying. Really. Why should I have to change my behavior for someone who acts irrationally when an article of clothing is left on a bed? The things we do for our loved ones though.

 

I looked it up online to see where this even came from.

 

I found a few sources where it is mentioned and is a thing, but as for the origin, it is truly vague. Aside from the usual invoking bad luck, injury, or death, particularly related to cowboys. It can also be attributed to avoiding the transference of head lice to a bed or simply to avoid sitting upon a hat one has forgotten was placed on the bed and ruining it by crushing.

 

There are a lot more references to this obscure superstition than expected, but really nothing based on any fact.

So, to keep peace in the family, I will try to avoid putting a hat on the bed.

 

By the way, the title picture is of my husband’s hat on our bed…that he put there!

 

I saw he had done it and snapped it as evidence.

 

When I confronted him about it he was genuinely unhappy he did it, I just smiled.

 

Then today, he tells me someone died. I had seen that a founding father in our small town had passed away Sunday. The same day he laid his hat on the bed.

 

He asked me if he should go over and apologize. I really think he wasn’t joking.

 

Sigh.

 

Written by Catherine Tobsing


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Approved by Mitch Rezman

Profile picture Mitch Rezman

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your zygodactyl footnote

 

catherinetobsing

Catherine Tobsing, owner Windy City Parrot and Bargain Hunter
Nothing quite gets my heart pumping like a good Rummage Sale. The thrill of the hunt gets me twitching until I find that first deal. Then I can relax and cruise. Compliment me on my outfit, I will tell you how little I paid for each item. I have no shame in wearing thrifted clothing or live with used furnishings. My home is a showcase of a lifetime of dumpster diving and alley picking and I wouldn't have it any other way.

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