No cultural boundaries for pestilence
Over coffee with a friend on Thursday morning I complimented myself on having three healthy children. After several weeks of drippy noses, hacking coughs and a bout of bronchitis the kids finally seemed fit, just in time for their upcoming spring break. I knocked once on the café’s wooden table and then rapped my knuckles against my teeth, following both American and Czech superstitions to secure my good fortune. But I should have known life with small children is rarely predictable.