Ah, Friday the 13th. The day when the universe takes a break from playing it cool and decides to throw all logic and reason out the window.
You know, just to keep things interesting.
And what better way to celebrate than to embrace the madness?
So go ahead—walk under that ladder, spill some salt, break a mirror, and adopt a black cat. It’s all just silly superstition, right? The kind of stuff that gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling—like a black cat who’s probably about to knock over your best vase.
But let’s get to the real pressing question here.
Who in the world came up with this word: paraskevidekatriaphobia?
Who looked at that jumble of syllables and thought, “Yep, that’s the one. That’s the word that will perfectly describe my fear of Friday the 13th”?
The real question is, how many goofy ways can we try to pronounce it without sounding like we’re summoning an ancient curse?
You might say it like this: Parakeet Scaffolding Tree. Or maybe Parsnip Vegetable Cat-Tree Phobia. I call it “The Fear of Words That Shouldn’t Exist.” Because when you see a word that’s 15 letters long, it’s clear someone’s just having a laugh at your expense.
But here’s the kicker: What happens if you do manage to pronounce it correctly three times in a row? Do you accidentally summon Michael Keaton as Beetlejuice? Or better yet Barbara Eden! Remember she does come with her own handy bottle to carry her around. I mean, if we’re going to tempt fate, let’s go all in, right?
Superstitions, Schmooperstitions
Look, the rest of the superstitions surrounding Friday the 13th are all pretty harmless, too. Walk under a ladder? Sure, I’ll risk it. It’s not like the ladder is secretly plotting my downfall. And spilling salt? Please, throw that over your left shoulder and go on with your day. The salt gods might be frowning, but you’ve still got a full bottle of salt. The odds of that causing anything catastrophic are basically nonexistent.
As for the black cat—well, I’ve always wanted one with a name that screams “I’m embracing my bad luck.” So I’m off to adopt a black cat named 13. I can’t wait for it to stare me down like, “Really? Another unlucky fool who thinks they can conquer me?” But we’ll be best friends, I’m sure.
And hey, don’t forget that classic: breaking a mirror. Sure, seven years of bad luck sounds awful, but I’m already a walking disaster, so what’s the worst that could happen? I break the mirror and end up with… another broken mirror. Great, now I’ve got a collection and someday some fool will pay top dollar at an auction for my artistic display of Friday the 13th things.
But Seriously… Paraskevidekatriaphobia?
Now, back to that horrifyingly long word. Paraskevidekatriaphobia is the clinical term for the fear of Friday the 13th. It’s a mysterious word that’s probably been handed down by some kind of linguistic society who gets together every year to laugh at all of us who can’t pronounce it. Seriously, how does this even happen? I can’t even get my tongue around it without sounding like I’m reciting an ancient spell.
So, here’s a challenge: Try to say it correctly three times in a row. If you do, you’ll either get Michael Keaton, Barbara Eden or just a puff of smoke with an evil laugh that only you can hear.
How to Truly Celebrate Friday the 13th
Here’s what you need to do today. Embrace the nonsense. Walk under a ladder, spill some salt, and adopt a black cat (or, if you’re really feeling wild, adopt a whole army of black cats). And most importantly, try your hardest to pronounce paraskevidekatriaphobia—because why not?
Maybe, just maybe, you’ll end up with some supernatural bad luck, or better yet, Maleficent will show up with the latest Powerball numbers.
Because, let’s face it, Friday the 13th isn’t about luck at all. It’s about laughing at all the superstitions we cling to and wondering: how much of this is real, anyway?
