[This is a shaggy dog story, collected in the UK in the early, 2000s].
Listening at the bedroom door one night whilst my son said his prayers I heard him say, "God bless Daddy and Mummy, Grandad and Grandma, Uncle Albert and goodbye to Rolf my dog". I thought it a little odd but forgot about it until the next morning when, on opening the door to go to work, Rolf shot past me straight into the road and into the path of an oncoming car. I ran to him straight away but he was as dead as a door nail. I thought a lot about my sons prayer during the day but in the end put it down to coincidence.
A few weeks later I was again listening to him saying his prayers when I heard him say, "God bless Daddy and Mummy, Grandad and Uncle Albert and goodbye to Grandma".
I waited in anticipation the next day to see what would happen. At four o'clock just as I was beginning to think what a fool I was the phone rang. It was my father to tell me that my mother had just died. From that point on I was convinced that somehow my son could foretell misfortune. I made a special point of listening to his prayers every night from then on.
About six months passed, and then when listening to his prayers, I heard, "God bless Mummy, Grandad, Uncle Albert and goodbye to Daddy". I was mortified, scared out of my wits. I dare not confide it to my wife, she would only laugh at me. I had terrible nightmares that night and woke up haggard and drawn.
I thought about staying home out of harms way but realized that if I was going to die it could happen anywhere. On the way to work I took great pains to stay out of danger, keeping well away from the curb as I walked to the station; picking the middle section of the train as possibly the safest if there was a crash; waiting until there was absolutely no traffic anywhere near before crossing the road and the like. I didn't dare leave the safety of the office at lunchtime and sat drinking coffee and worrying myself sick. At five o'clock I left for home taking all the precautions I had used that morning. By the time I got home I was all in, I even had to ring the doorbell because I no longer had the strength left in me to search in my pocket for the key.
My wife opened the door with a scowl on her face and I staggered past her saying "I've had a really awful day, I feel totally drained, physically and emotionally. "My wife replied bitingly "Don't give me your hard luck stories I have had a really bad day, it started when the milkman dropped dead on the doorstep!"