That's me. In Salem, Massachusetts last year having fun, but his silly story starts long before then...
When my husband and I met, I had a cat. No big deal. Except that my cat's favorite toy was a voodoo doll. It was made from Spanish Moss, I bought it in the French Quarter and thought it was hysterical. Our first date was coincidentally Halloween. He proposed a year later on our "anniversary". Which was obviously...Halloween.
I'm from New Orleans, home to Mardi Gras and voodoo if you aren't from there. He's from Boston, home of superstitions, religious fears, and Salem Massachusetts (home of the famous witch trials of the seventeenth century) is nearby.
We got married in a tiny ceremony on the beach in Florida and honeymooned in Massachusetts so I could meet his family. I'm a huge history buff so I was very excited to go see the famous town of Salem.
He was not.
It took me forever to wheedle it out of him, but he finally tells me, "I don't want to go because I'm afraid they'll have a picture of a witch and it'll have your face!"
I couldn't stop laughing. I mean the fall down on the floor because you can't stand up any more, tears streaming from the corners of your eyes, holding your stomach laughing. Really?
He was completely deadpan serious.
NOT being superstitious, how could I not have fun with him on this one? It started by accident: I have these antique amber apothecary jars that just sat in my kitchen cabinets. Once I put some rose seeds in one and he saw it and in a panicked voice says, "What is that?!?" Without turning around I tell him in a starnge voice, "Nothing to concern yourself with."
That's when it began. Whenever one of my cats (I had two now) shed a whisker, I'd wait until he could see me pick it up (you just can't vacuum those things) and I'd carefully, delicately place it in one of the jars. Where he could see me do it.
Whenever he would do something "wrong" I'd chalk a symbol in front of the door so he could see it when he got home. I would often burn a piece of paper in his bathroom sink with a spell written on it.
Over the years, I've collected spell books, and things from shops in New Orleans and Salem, as well as purchased things online...
Now, I'm quite knowledgeable in Wiccan beliefs, New Age practices, Pagan ways, and I've adopted it as my sort-of religion, thanks to him. What started as a joke to prey on his superstitions has become my real life.
I've been to Salem many times. But never with him. I go home to New Orleans often. But never with him.
I once asked him, "You know I'm not really a witch, right?" And he just looked out the window and mumbled, "Uh-huh."
Guess what I dress up as every year for Halloween? (insert smirk)