Situation one: my mom is up for a few days to help us out with Tegan.  Yesterday, she had to go and return her camera because it was dumb, but she couldn't because the battery in her van had died.  Like the loving son I am, I helped her disconnect the battery so she could take it in to Auto Zone and have it tested.  Sure enough, it was a gonner, so she bought a new one, and I helped her put that one in, too.  A problem arose when I finally connected the terminals.  The van's alarm (i.e. lots of honking a few inches from where my nose was) went off.  Good thing I used the bathroom shortly before, because otherwise, Tegan wasn't the only person that would need some changing.

Situation two: I had to run up to campus so that I could turn in a financial aid thing.  I'm hoping that having a baby makes us poor enough so that I can go to school for cheap-as-free.  As I was passing the Health Department, I noticed a lot of cars, like more than are normally there.  And like anyone, I looked at them.  When I turned my head back around, literally 2 seconds later, a plastic shopping bag was flying at my windshield.  Does anyone out there know just how much a flying plastic bag can look like an R.P.G. (and that doesn't stand for Role Playing Game)?  Just about pooped myself again.  

I had thought that I was pretty much okay, at least as far as the P.T.S.D. goes.  I can tolerate fireworks, when cars backfire I don't think that someone is coming for me, and have even been able to drive through traffic circles again.  But I'm scared of a plastic bag, folks.  This doesn't make me too optimistic about the future.