Three bad things break the curse.

Have you ever told yourself this sacred truth that bad things come in threes but once all three things have occurred no more will follow, thereby lulling yourself into a relaxing sense of security?

It’s that little game of reassurance we started playing in high school: Bad things come in threes so if three bad things have happened nothing else bad can happen. We told it to our highschool girl friends in an act of empathy and strength to help them through the trifecta disaster of a bad haircut, tripping in front of a boy and getting pimples before a dance. We quietly muttered it under our breath when running late the first day of a new job, having the car break down and the cell phone die. It could always get worse but since the mini disasters came in three, it wouldn’t get worse this time.

With less than 2 weeks before our holiday I went for a walk in brand new sandals and built twoonie-sized blisters on the balls of both feet. 2 days ago I touched my left wrist with a flat iron and burned the bony prominence at the exact spot that my blue tiger eye mala bead bracelet rubs. Today a crack in my lower left molar made its’ presence known in stabbing waves of pain every time my tongue rubbed against it.

So that’s the three things: blisters, burns and a broken tooth. I’m done now right? I can go on holiday and be safe from disasters, minor and major. The curse is broken.

I’m not really superstitious. I believe in science. But I also believe in the bubbling flutter of excitement warming the pit of my stomach knowing that 8 months of anticipation ends in 48 hours when we will get on a plane and head to San Diego for our cruise.

Then again, I do still have to go the dentist tomorrow.