Bad Things in Threes. Or more.

My sister has had a bit of bad luck recently.
It all started when she lost her debit card in the machine. It wasn't immediately clear where she had left it, as she'd been to a number of establishments in the past 24 hours.
Bea then travelled to NH for a parental visit, armed with loads of laundry.
Her mobile ended up in one of those loads.
Returning to Boston, sans cell, Bea dropped Chuck off at her apartment and headed to the Verizon store. Armed with a new phone, she called me to tell me she was hungry and, having tried to go to two places that don't accept cards, was coming over. "I don't have much food here," I said. Before I could suggest my leftover pizza, she had hung up. Because she couldn't find her apartment keys.
I got a call soon. "Look, I can't find my keys, I'm starving, I'm coming over. I have no money because I don't have a fucking card. You need to feed me and I'll get the spare key."
Now, you have to understand--Bea breezes into rooms. And when she's in damage-control mood, she's quite the force. But while I could provide her with a spare key, I couldn't give her a new mailbox key, meaning she still wouldn't be able to retrieve her new debit card. THE DEBIT CARD THAT SHE MUST HAVE.
She arrived at my apartment completely flustered and started perusing my fridge while I started to ease her key off the chain. I abandoned the key task immediately--feeding her was obviously more important.
Finally, I sent her off, well-fed (not only did she eat my pizza, but she convinced me to make, from scratch, tuscan hummus). To only get a call five minutes later--"I can't get into my apartment." Because in my distraction I'd given her the key to next door, the other spare on my keychain.

She drove back to my apartment, got the right key, parked her car, went back to her apartment....

and found her keys on her desk.
All that time they were right there. While she ran around the Verizon store, posted on craig's list, freaked out that her keys were somewhere on the street. Telling her friend, "Yeah, I just ran my phone through the washer and then lost my keys so I'm locked out of my apartment and can't check my mail for the debit card I lost. I'm good."
Right. There.

Well, at least I'm not the only family spaz.