Dear Universe,

Remember that moment a long time ago when I commented on how amazing it was that none of our five boys had ever gotten stitches?

It wasn't like I was going ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha WE ARE SO MUCH BETTER THAN OTHER FAMILIES BECAUSE WE ARE STITCH-FREE!

No.

It wasn't like that at all.

I was just saying that, generally speaking, BOYS + STITCHES = INEVITABLE. (I don't mean to be sexist. The same is probably true for girls, but how would I know? There are just not enough "X" chromosomes running around this house for me to draw any meaningful conclusions.)

Anyway.

Within six weeks of making that completely innocent comment, our family went to the doctor's office three times to get some stitches.

THREE TIMES!

One kid fell off a slide. Another got smacked with a tennis racket in P.E. And a third got a hand shovel stuck in his forehead.

OK. That right there was a perfect opportunity for me to learn an important life lesson: You should never EVER say anything that makes the Universe (i.e. YOU) sit up and take notice.

Why?

Because when the Universe (i.e. YOU) takes notice, SUDDENLY YOU FIND YOURSELF LOOKING AT A KID WITH A HAND SHOVEL STUCK IN HIS FOREHEAD.

But no. I didn't learn. Of course I didn't!

Which is why I kept saying stuff like, "Hey! I can't believe my piece-of-garbage-German-car hasn't broken down lately," only to find myself marooned the very next day on 700 East, putting in a call to AAA.

ME: Hi. It's Ann Cannon. Could you please send my best friend Caesar over to tow my piece-of-garbage-German-car again?

I know. I'm hopeless.

Anyway.

We've had a little run of bad luck lately, which has given me the idea to make this phenomenon work in my favor. I'm going to say stuff out loud, HOPING that the Universe (i.e. YOU) is paying attention.

Here's what I plan to say:

"I love all these extra pounds I've been dragging around since my last baby was born 16 years ago. I HOPE THEY NEVER EVER GO AWAY."

"I like owing money. I HOPE I NEVER WIN THE LOTTERY."

"I think it's very satisfying to vacuum up bushels of dog hair every day. I HOPE MY 175-POUND NEWFOUNDLAND NEVER STOPS SHEDDING. OR DROOLING."

"Hawaii's overrated. I HOPE I NEVER HAVE TO GO TO HAWAII. ESPECIALLY IN JANUARY. OR POSSIBLY FEBRUARY."

"I think it would be so cool if my family staged a fashion intervention. I HOPE STACY AND CLINTON PUT ME ON NATIONAL TV AND TELL ME WHY MY CLOTHES STINK."

"I hate it when my teams win. I HOPE THE EAGLES DON'T GO TO THE SUPER BOWL."

"I think George Clooney is super lame. I REALLY HOPE WITH ALL MY HEART I NEVER HAVE TO MEET GEORGE CLOONEY IN PERSON.

(Universe, I am especially serious about the George Clooney part.)

Thank you very much and best wishes always,

Ann Cannon

e-mail: acannon@desnews.com