They say bad things happen in threes. And to that I say, Pshaw! Who are “they” anyway? Because I’d like to have a word with them. I’m here as living proof that bad things can happen in fours, fives, and for poor saps like me, let’s talk nines.

It started when, unbeknownst to me, my kitchen faucet started to leak (bad thing #1). How am I to know it was slowly dripping under the cabinet? Unfortunately, I rarely look under there. Turns out it holds stuff I didn’t know I had. Like how often do you use sterling silver polish? Me? Let’s say never. And here’s my proof.

Apparently insurance companies couldn’t care less if secret drips aren’t promptly noticed. I suppose being psychic is essential in these instances. But lacking that particular skill, I didn’t foresee the drip slithering like a snake underneath the kitchen floor, only to settle in the dining room, buckling my 63-year-old hardwood. (Bad thing #2).

So I bought a kitchen faucet and called a plumber who discovered my garbage disposal was about to go kaput as well. (bad thing #3). He went to his shop to get one, came back with the wrong one, went back for the correct one, installed it (and the faucet I supplied) then handed me a $1500 bill (bad thing #4.) I guess this particular plumber charges $900 an hour. But like an idiot, I paid it (bad thing #5).

Then the upstairs bathroom faucet developed a leak under the cabinet (bad thing #6) which I only discovered because that’s where I keep the toilet paper and the role I grabbed was soaked. The leak caused a mini flood under there. So I contacted a different plumber who had to reconfigure the piping because whoever installed it did it incorrectly (bad thing #7).

My bad luck with leaks continued when the downstairs bathroom toilet leaked from the connection into the wall (bad thing #8) which my second plumber promptly fixed. Then last but not least, I was in my family room, surrounded by my pets, when a loud rumbling occurred under the house, like a volcano about to explode.

The animals scattered in fear while I followed the noise into the downstairs bathroom where the rumbling seemed to originate under the jacuzzi tub. Turns out my drip system for both the front and backyard blew a gasket or something (bad thing #9). Now I need a landscaper who specializes in irrigation systems.

I went round and round with my insurance company about replacing my downstairs flooring since the oak couldn’t be patched. So they sent out an inspector who couldn’t determine the cause. Then they sent out another. Same result.

In the end, they surmised it was probably the kitchen faucet drip; I surmised differently, blaming it on our winter storms and a flooded crawlspace. Now don’t get me wrong; I know nothing abut insurance coverage but their guess sounded about as feeble as mine. Still, they warned me my insurance company probably wouldn’t cover the damage even though I’ve only made one claim in 39 years.

You’ve probably seen their multi-million dollar Emu commercials with the tag line, Only Pay For What You Need. But I guess that doesn’t include flooring that would cost them $10,000. So I contacted the claims agent and told her I’m switching to State Farm. A week later, I received a $10,000 check. (Good thing #1).

So my point is, don’t believe it when “they” say bad things happen in threes.