There is nothing good or lucky about being pooped on by a bird. I think that story must have been made up by a compassionate mother who wanted to ease her distraught child and it caught on from there. Really, has it ever happened to you? Then you would know.
I was hit on my arm today. Luckily, I can't bear to part with the wet wipes in my bag, even though I officially go nappy free now (even when I'm with my children). Also as lucky is the fact that I have a strong attachment to hand sanitiser, and so also carry it in my bag. Moments like those totally justify my quirks. Don't you love it when that happens? Anyway.
When I was in primary school there were these wood pigeons that used to nest in the tree canopy that covered the open play area (not the field or the playground, but other). They had a bit of a fetish for pooping on my head. Seriously. It happened ALL THE TIME. It wasn't as gross as normal bird poop (of course I'd say that, as the person who always has bird poop in my hair, but really it wasn't). It was more like stewed apple. No one else really knew about it, because I didn't make a big deal and it wasn't all white and stinky. But still. The first time I wasnt sure how someone's chewed up apple got on my head. But I came to know the origin all too soon, and with far too much familiarity.
What's with that?
So apart from putting my hand in it by accident occasionally and cleaning off my children who haven't been hit but seem to find it fascinating and not at all gross, I hadn't had a run-in for a while. Today was a bit of a throw back. In one of the worst kinds of ways.
Good luck to you.