Mel and I were driving home one night when a black cat crossed our path. As usual, Mel didn’t even deccelerate and we missed the poor feline by an inch. I felt I had to say something. “If we ran over the cat wouldn’t it be like double bad luck or something?”
The love of my life pondered on this dramatically before retorting, “If I ran it over and it’s guts were splattered all over the cement, who do you think had bad luck?”
I hate it when he’s right.