I used to be petrified of Friday the 13th. I was raised around a lot of superstitious people. Then Friday the 13th would come and go and nothing super bad happened. There were no monsters in the closet, and Jason Voorhees didn't come after me. So, I stopped being afraid of Friday the 13th.
Then I got married. Didn't realize I married a superstitious man. Hubby would have a fit if we split a pole or if I walked under a ladder. I would laugh it off, and when days passed with no bad luck, he laughed too.
My daughter would have a fit if she broke a mirror. She was convinced she would have seven years bad luck.
My mother always told me never to buy a man a pair of shoes because he would walk out on you if you did.
I dismiss all these superstitions as phooey. But maybe, in the back of my mind some of it stuck. In twenty-three years of marriage, I have never bought my husband a pair of shoes.