Um...it hit me out of nowhere tonight that when we used to carry around rabbit's feet--you know...hanging from our belt loops and dyed bright blue--we were carrying around THE SEVERED REMAINS OF AN ANIMAL.
I just threw up a bit in my mouth.
I remember as a middle schooler sitting on my bed reading, absentmindedly stroking my rabbit's foot against my cheek. Seriously, how could a mother who kept a house so clean that we often ate off the floor just to prove that we could allow me to carry around an animal appendage? As a lucky charm, no less.
It all reminds me of Monsieur Three-Leg.