My husband repels Death

I have become convinced that my husband somehow repels Death. I am concerned that I, in fact, somehow attract Death. Let me submit to you the evidence. (Note, some of the evidence is gross. Weak stomach? Consider yourself warned, but I try to keep it above board.)

1. My husband managed to actually roll a car at age 16 with three passengers, none of whom were wearing seatbelts, and no one was hurt. I was not there.

2. When he was in the reserves, my husband had to leave me home alone one weekend a month and two weeks in the summer. On one of said longer trips, I began to have strange encounters with Death. First, there was the very run over snake in the middle of the road down which I walked the dog.

3. Then, on another of these trips, I discovered half a deer carcass off on the side of the road. No, I don't know why only half - I tried to neither look, nor think about it, but it was likely for the same reason that the carcass was one day off the road, one day up on the road and the next day about 20 feet farther down the road.

(N.B. - At this point, I forbid Husband to leave. Fortunately, his service was up anyway.)

4. As an archaeologist, he spends his summers doing field work in faraway places like Turkey, Sweden, and Iceland. One year when he was in Turkey, I found some sort of mole/rat thing in the yard. Let's just say the remains were not conclusively identifiable. (Unlike the others, I couldn't skirt this one and had to throw it out myself. Blech.)

5. The next year, when he was in Sweden or Iceland - can't recall which - I had a similar incident with dead birds, one is a public park looking mauled and the other downtown looking suspiciously like he tried to fly through a building.

6. Then, one autumn, I was hit by a large delivery truck while crossing the street. (One like but not actually this one.) Fortunately, He Who Eschews and Repulses Death was with me. As it was, Mr. Truck came to a stop on my foot, but I'm starting to wonder what would have happened if he hadn't been there. (I really don't like to think about what would have happened had I not randomly chosen to wear my work boots that day. I now fear big tires and combinations of bright blue and silver, as well as truck grilles. You can't blame me really.)

7. My husband is out of town this week. This morning, I took the dog out and brought him back in without incident. I pack up to leave, and as I'm walking out of the house, I nearly step on a dead bird on our porch where I had just been standing, not five minutes earlier. Perhaps a robin, I don't really know, but a bird laying there peacefully as if he died of natural causes.

All a coincidence? Perhaps, but I'm really starting to wonder.