My mother was born on Sept 13, and sometimes her birthday falls on a Friday. My mom always tells the story of her 16th birthday party, as a way to illustrate the bad that can happen on a Friday the 13th. She had her 16th birthday party in the loft (second floor) of her family's barn. There was a hole in the middle of the floor where you could climb down the ladder to get to the ground floor. She had put a chair over the hole, so none of her friends would accidentally fall through the hole. There was drinking going on at the party, so she was worried someone would drunkenly fall through the hole. Her little sister Amy, came upstairs to the loft to hang out with the "big kids", she was 5 or 6 years old. Of course she forgets why the chair is there, and sits on it. The chair falls through to the first floor, and Amy is screaming at the top of her lungs. My mother being a snotty 16 year old, didn't care that her sister was hurt. Amy kept complaining that her arm hurt. My mom drug Amy all the way home, tugging on her hurt arm, saying "comon' it doesn't hurt that bad". When they got home, my mom pushed Amy in the door and went back to her party. Of course later that night when my drunk mother got home, she found out that Amy had broken her arm, and my mom was in big trouble for not even telling her mother what happened.
