A Carol for the Thirteenth
- Jordan Gravewyck
- Dec 13, 2024
- 1 min read
Deck the halls with shattered mirrors,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la,
Walk beneath the ladders, dearest,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
Open umbrellas in the foyer,
Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la,
Invite bad luck to come destroy yer,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
Drop some salt and never throw it,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la,
Pass a black cat, don’t you know it?
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
Break the chain on grandma’s letter,
Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la,
Say her luck can’t get much better,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
Step on cracks to curse your mother,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la,
Cross your forks atop each other,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
Leave your shoes upon the table,
Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la,
Mock the stars and tempt the fable,
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.
The last five months have been trying, yet we endure. Perhaps I will have time to resume writing soon.
In the meantime, I wish you each a dreaded Friday, December Thirteenth.
This peculiar little parody was, as one might expect, sparked by Kirby—ever the agent of mischief among the twins. It began with their rather cheerful desecration of a festive tune, crooning, 'Deck the hall with poison ivy,' followed by the darkly delightful refrain, 'The itching will make you lively.'
My curiosity regarding this sudden lyrical deviation revealed that my child had taken to singing about Friday the Thirteenth, imbuing it with a very literal interpretation of ill fortune. Such is their mind—an endless source of creative chaos.
From there, we tumbled headlong into a discussion of superstitions and omens: the sort of thing that leaves a black cat’s shadow stretching far beyond its physical bounds. The conversation soon veered towar…