My life is a lot like fractured nursery rhymes and freaky fairy tales.
Little Miss Muffet’s got nothing on me with her skydiving spiders; I’ve got wasps sneaking in, darting hither and yon!
Three Blind Mice? Harrumph! More like four special needs rescue kitties!
The occasional Big Bad Wolf? Nope, hands down, the hot water pipes blowing out cause more troubles!
2017 looks like there’s a pattern emerging.
Ever hear of the curse of threes? One event occurs, followed by another, and then one more?
I see your heads nodding.
- My daughter had a severe asthma attack and was rushed to the hospital. She’s ok, they caught her pre-pneumonia.
- My father fell, injuring his back. His compressed fracture is healing well.
- My father-in-law fell, three times! He’s now recuperating in an assisted living facility.
Just like Humpty Dumpty’s cracked exterior was painfully duct taped and hot glued, they are picking up the pieces and moving on.
Not surprising, I haven’t been home much, but I can say that Hem and Haw didn’t miss a meal, or a snooze!
Has the curse of three visited you?