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when I finally uttered the fatalistic words. “What else can go wrong?” I yelled for my daughter to get my coat. She came and stood over me. “What did you say?” “Get my coat and hurry.” She was gone for a brief moment and then returned with no coat. “Where’s my coat?” I queried, rain drenching me and rolling down my face. “I can’t get it.” “Why not?” And that was when the terrible truth, the answer to the question hit me. “Nothing is so bad it can’t get worse.” She hung her head as she answered. “I accidentally locked the keys in the pickup.” 16