Have you ever wondered why things come in threes? Whether it’s something good or something bad, there always seems to be a trio of things that happen around the same time. Is this a coincidence? Or proof of a higher power out there somewhere?
Last week we had the drama that comes when a parent decides to through herself down the stairs and fracture her spine. I’m not being fair here, she didn’t actually throw herself down. And judging by the amount of pain my Mum is in, I don’t think she’ll be doing it again any time soon. Although, she does now have some rather fetching body armour in the shape of a back splint.
Shortly after that, my car battery decided it wanted to cause a bit of trouble by randomly completely depleting overnight. Apparently it was just old.
The third thing was dropping one of my Hoovers and somehow detaching the motor off the handle.
But was it a fluke?
Things come in threes
So, aside from looking after Mum, I’ve had a few more curveballs thrown at me this week. Which got me thinking about the phrase “things come in threes”. And because I love to Google things so much, I’ve learnt that things don’t come in threes.
Apparently people just like to look for meaningful patterns in things.
The phenomenon has even got a fancy name – apophenia. First coined by Klaus Conrad in 1958. You can read more about it here.
Apophenia is the tendency to mistakenly perceive connections and meaning between unrelated things.
So my Mum falling down some stairs, my oven going bang and the chaos caused by next door’s cat aren’t related at all. It was just an apopheny.
I quite like the word Apopheny. I am going to forever more refer to myself as having an apopheny when things come in threes in a short space of time. It sounds more comforting than thinking I’ve been cursed by the things coming in threes thing. Because they don’t really. Maybe if I look at things this way, instead of being on edge waiting for the third thing to go wrong I might get out of the negative cycle.
As of today, my name is Hannah and I’m an Apophenic. I’m not actually sure if that’s a word, but I’m using it to describe myself when I have a week like this week.
The first thing to go wrong this week was my ancient laptop suddenly dying. It’s been mega slow for weeks now. Funnily enough ever since I got messages saying that spare parts would no longer be available for it.
On Monday I tried to turn it on and it took 4 hours to reach the home screen.
It then took another hour to get it to find the WiFi, by which point I was knackered and just went to bed.
It’s never turned on again since.
Not really a disaster in the grand scheme of things but when you’ve decided to move your website, it’s definitely a pain in the arse.
And the reason it’s taking me so long to get anything on here.
Bang bang chicken.
The other night I was cooking dinner, chicken to be precise, and the oven went BANG and everything went dark. As any parent with gadget obsessed children knows, the WiFi going off is an absolute disaster. Before I had even had time to turn off the oven’s isolating switch, I had 3 girls whining that there was no WiFi. Not whining that it was suddenly pitch dark. Oh no. Their gadgets were fully charged, so aside from the lack of WiFi everything in their lives was fine.
I then had the absolute pleasure of removing eleventy billion pairs of shoes, various school bags, pe kits and handbags away from the cupboard under the stairs door. Once I had got that done, I got to move onto moving the shoe racks out the way, and all the coats, and trying to open the cupboard door.
The door usually gets stuck, but can be opened by jimmying it with a spoon.
Could I find a bloody spoon to help? Could I fuck. None in the drawers, none in the dishwasher and none in lunchboxes. So I had to settle for using a massive slotted spoon.
Eventually I opened the cupboard and reaching over a cat, a Ruby and half an Emily I flicked the fuses back on. Apparently that cupboard is incredibly exciting if you’re a child or a pet. It really isn’t. Unless you like looking at random things that don’t go anywhere else in the house that is.
WiFi restored, the girls went back to playing Roblox on their phones, or their online shopping in Jess’ case. And I got to put all the shoes IN the fucking shoe rack, all the coats ON the fucking coat hooks and all the bags on the tops of the shoe racks. I put everything away and then realised the cat was still in there. So I had to undo all my hard work to let the little sod out.
By the time I had finished doing all that, the still warm but no longer working oven had cooked the chicken, and I was able to feed my poor starving children. It had been at least 45 minutes since they’d eaten anything you know!
Later that same night, after finally calming down two hyper excited little girls, we went upstairs to get ready for bed. What did we find when we went into the girls room? Apart from the usual mess, we found our neighbour’s cat.
He was standing in the middle of Emily’s bed, pissing. Actually pissing on her bed. He is a beast of a cat, and clearly has the bladder of a racehorse. Because it went on for ages. It was literally the longest piss I have ever seen in my life. We were all horrified. Normally, the girls would find something like this hysterical, but not when they’re tired.
We tried to make a grab for him, but he was too fast and jumped on to Ruby’s bed. In my desperation to grab him, I lunged across the room, slipped on an empty crisp packet and landed on Ruby’s bed. Breaking about 5 of her slats in the process.
Once we had finally evicted the cat, it was late, so the girls were dispatched to my bed to sleep and I shut their bedroom door.
I’m really looking forward to buying new mattresses, new beds and new duvets 12 days before Christmas. (NOT!) There’s only so much sleeping on the couch one person can do before looking like a permanent zombie.
So if you see me on the school run looking like death, shoved in a coat and probably wearing and outfit that makes no sense, that’s why.
Lack of sleep. Again.