Never wish someone “Happy Birthday” before their actual birthday, as it brings bad luck

Setting: A cozy cafe in Stuttgart, on a chilly spring afternoon. Max and Lena are sipping cappuccinos. Lena’s birthday is tomorrow.

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Max: (smiling, holding up a tiny gift bag)
Alright, alright—happy birthday in advance, Lena! Thought I’d beat the crowd.

Lena: (gasps dramatically and almost drops her cup)
MAX! Are you trying to curse me? You never wish someone happy birthday before their actual birthday! That’s like… inviting disaster!

Max: (laughs)
Oh come on. It’s not like I summoned a thunderstorm. It’s just a birthday wish, not a Voldemort incantation.

Lena:
Mock all you want, but I swear, every time someone wished me early, something weird happened. Remember two years ago? An hour after Marie texted me early wishes, I tripped over my shoelace in the U-Bahn and spilled coffee everywhere. Coincidence? I think not.

Max:
I remember. I also remember that you were texting while walking, holding a paper cup in the rain. That’s not superstition—that’s physics and poor footwear.

Lena: (crosses arms)
Still. There’s a reason Germans are very strict about this. My Oma used to say, “Vor dem Geburtstag zu gratulieren, bringt Unglück.” And honestly, she lived to be 96, so she must’ve done something right.

Max: (grinning)
Omas also said not to whistle indoors because it summons the devil. Doesn’t mean Beelzebub’s chilling in my flat when I sing Queen in the shower.

Lena:
Well, maybe you’ve just been lucky. Some things we can’t explain. Isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?

Max:
Sure, but if we followed every superstition “just in case,” we’d never do anything. No black cats, no walking under ladders, no opening umbrellas indoors—imagine the chaos! I’d need a checklist before leaving the house.

Lena:
You laugh, but even scientists can’t explain everything. Quantum mechanics is weird too—particles popping in and out of existence. Maybe birthday luck operates on a similar mysterious principle!

Max: (mock-serious)
Ah yes, Schrödinger’s Cake. The birthday both celebrated and cursed until the clock strikes midnight.

Lena: (giggles despite herself)
Exactly! Tomorrow I’m either having a great day or slipping on banana peels in four dimensions.

Max: (more gently now)
Look, I get it. Traditions give comfort. But think about it this way: If early wishes caused bad luck, we’d see statistically significant evidence—birthday injuries would spike before the date. No such pattern exists.

Lena:
But can science measure emotional energy? Maybe it’s not about events, but about vibes. Like jinxing a surprise.

Max:
Then let me reframe it. Early wishes are just expressions of love or thoughtfulness. If I care about you today, why should I have to suppress that because of a superstition?

Lena: (softening)
Okay, that’s… kind of sweet. But I swear, Max—if a bird poops on my head tomorrow, I’m blaming you.

Max:
Deal. And if nothing bad happens, you owe me a pre-birthday high five next year.

Lena:
Hmm. Maybe just a low-five. After midnight.

Max: (raising his cup)
To cautious optimism and scientific banter.

Lena: (clinks her cup with his)
To surviving birthdays… one German superstition at a time.