I am not a religious person. I don't believe aliens are abducting people and anally probing them on board the mother ship. Bigfoot would have carelessly left a carcass or skeleton laying around somewhere over the last couple hundred years if he really existed. And mothers all around the globe would be in traction or full-body casts from their careless children traipsing across cracks all the live-long day. But some things that I encounter during my daily life in Hillmomba are just freaky coincidences.
For instance...over the last week-and-a-half, I have found six pennies on the ground. SIX pennies. Never mind that I usually go 6-9 months without finding a penny on the pavement. There has been a plethora of pennies in my path over the last 10 days. Since April 17, I've found the tiny-percent coppers on the parking lot at 7-11, Great Clips, Save-A-Lot, school, and on the floor of my classroom, and in the garage of the Mansion. But nary a one at The Devil's Playground.
The odd coincidence is that April is the month that my dad passed away, back in 1998. April 19, to be exact. Now I'm not saying that Dad has been dumping change down through the clouds, or that he's been silently strong-arming folks into coughing up their coins. It's simply a weird coincidence that I'm rolling in cheap dough at the anniversary of his death.
Times are tough all over. During the first several months after Dad died, I found dimes all over the place. Not pennies. Dimes. And we had a rash of phone calls with no one there, unknown caller types of calls. Just a dead line, so to speak, when you answered. Or no message when the machine picked up. Not pranks calls, not wrong numbers, not telemarketers. But that quit after a few months.
Some things even Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has no explanation for.