The ever-elusive “They” say bad things happen in threes, right?

Whew. That means we’re good to go for awhile.

Within the past two weeks, we’ve had a financial kick in the shins.

First — as you’ve already read — our beloved washing machine kicked the bucket. She had to be replaced immediately. Life without a washing machine for a family of six is really no life at all. It’s just a stinky pile of dirty socks. And who wants that?

Next, our sweet Tahoe decided she needed a new fuel pump. On the way back from delivering the kids to school yesterday, she died. Just gave up the ghost on the side of Garrard Road. We coaxed and coerced her. Chris got his hands good and greasy. We jumped her with the Volvo a couple of times. She was not amused.

“I think it’s a fuel pump issue,” Chris said. And he was right. “Sorry I’m only a good enough mechanic to identify the problem… not to fix it.”

And then my kick-ass cowboy boots kicked me in the ass. After a fun day of MSU tailgating, I had a blister on my big toe the size of a quarter. And I’ll be damned if that thing didn’t get infected. And I’ll be damned if I didn’t wake up Monday morning with a fever and chills and red streaks running up my foot and ankle. Staph infection. Cellulitis. (Not to be confused with cellulite. I have that, too, but it can’t be eradicated with Keflex.) Lots of whining. After a trip to the doctor and a grocery bag full of antibiotics and pain-killers, we stopped those red streaks in their tracks.

It could definitely have been a Glass-Half-Empty couple of weeks.

But always the optimists, my dear husband and my effervescent friend, Mary, pointed out these inarguable truths:

1. We get to have clean clothes. I’m not doing laundry at the Starkville Laundromat. The kids don’t have to turn their underwear inside out to double their wearability.

2. The Tahoe didn’t die on the Natchez Trace Parkway in two weeks — the place with no cell service and very little traffic — when Chris and the kids were heading back to Indiana for Fall Break. Crisis most definitely averted. And we found a fast and reliable mechanic in our new hometown.

3. I still have a big toe on my left foot. And we found a new doctor in Starkville.

So although the checking account is crying out for mercy and I’m still a little woozy from the painkillers, the glass around here is definitely half-full.

I hope it’s half-full of my favorite red liquid. The one that rhymes with “thine.”