Statistics show that people who believe in bad luck will have more accidents on Friday the 13th. Our brains also seem to only hold onto the ill-fated times — like when we drop an egg on the floor, that memory will stay with us for quite some time, even if we successfully didn’t drop it hundreds of times.
Shared sorrow is half a sorrow, and on this note, Bright Side found 17 people who would like to push the “undo” button on their terrible day.
1. “This tree fell and pulled the whole lawn up with it.”
2. “My friend’s car was squished by a tree earlier today after some high winds.”
3. “Started a new job and was told they recycle their earplugs at the end of every shift. I think I’ll just go buy my own.”
4. “I dropped my deep fat fryer on my wooden floor.”
5. “We had a huge storm the other day, and this happened to my friend.”
6. “The watermelon I grew”
7. “That’s my luggage, and it’s not on the plane.”
8. “I have a shy bladder and walked into my worst nightmare.”
9. “The one time I decided to drive instead of ride my bike, this happened halfway to work.”
10. “All I wanted was to make myself some orange juice.”
11. “How my friend’s Friday the 13th started out”
12. “I’ve seen it happen in movies but never dreamed I would see it in real life.”
13. “Just so you know, a 10-foot pipe does not fit in a Toyota RAV4.”
14. “Ate a huge bag of trail mix for about 1 month. Got to the bottom and found 3 rusty screws.”
15. “If you were a cat, there’s a 9/10 chance you’d be named ’Socks.’”
16. “My bedroom ceiling collapsed.”
17. “Tenants called today to tell me the toilet wouldn’t flush, the plumber turned up to this.”
What’s worse — a sock sliding down inside one of your shoes or wearing wet socks? How do you spoil yourself on those days when nothing seems to go right?
My Neighbor Kept Hanging out Her Panties Right in Front of My Son’s Window, So I Taught Her a Real Lesson
The underwear of my neighbor turned into the star of a suburban farce, stealing the show directly outside my son’s 8-year-old window. Jake’s innocent question about whether her thongs were slingshots made me realize that the “panty parade” needed to end and that it was time to teach her some prudence when doing the laundry.
Oh, suburbia: a place where everything seems perfect, the air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, and life goes on without incident until someone changes everything. At that point, Lisa, our new neighbor, showed up. Everything had been rather quiet until wash day, when I saw something for the first time that had caught me off guard: a rainbow of her panties flapping outside Jake’s window like flags at a dubious parade.I nearly choked on my coffee one afternoon while folding Jake’s superhero underwear and happened to look out the window. And there they were, lacy and blazing pink and very much on show. Ever the inquisitive child, my son glanced over my shoulder and posed the dreaded query, “Mom, why is Mrs. Lisa wearing her underpants outside? And why are there strings on some of them? Are they for her hamster companion?I tried to explain between choked laughter and horrified astonishment. However, Jake’s imagination was running wild as he pondered whether Mrs. Lisa had aerodynamically engineered underpants and was indeed a superhero. He even expressed a desire to participate, proposing that his Captain America boxers be displayed next to her “crime-fighting gear.” Jake would get curious and Lisa’s laundry would flap in the breeze on a daily basis. But I realized it was time to terminate this farce when he offered to hang his own underpants next to hers. So, prepared to settle the dispute amicably, I marched over to her residence. Before I could say anything, Lisa answered the door and made it plain that she wasn’t going to break her laundry routine for anyone. She dismissed my worries with a laugh, advised me to “loosen up,” and even gave me style tips for my own clothes. Despite my frustration, I remained resolute and devised a cleverly trivial scheme. Using the brightest fabric I could find, I made the biggest, flashiest pair of granny panties ever that evening. When Lisa departed the following day, I hung my work of art directly in front of her window. When she came back, the sight of the enormous underwear with a flamingo print almost took her breath away. It was worth every stitch to watch her lose her cool trying to take down my practical joke. After a while, she gave in and agreed to shift her laundry somewhere less noticeable, all the while I silently celebrated my success. After that, Lisa’s laundry disappeared from our shared vision, and everything returned to normal. What about me? In the end, I had some flamingo-themed curtains that served as a constant reminder of the day I prevailed in the suburban laundry war.
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