So I'm driving home yesterday, up 5 & 10, which is a two lane road, and the [asshole] driver in a an 18 wheeler truck coming the other way, spits out the window, and his nasty phlegmball splats on my windshield, most of which I can't wash off because it falls below the reach of the wipers. I was so grossed out I started gagging. I thought I was going to throw up. Just thinking about it makes me gag. You know, I can wipe up the nastiest crap that comes out of anyone's orofice, as long as I'm in a clinical setting with gloves at my disposal. And I've cleaned up my fair share of poopy diapers--gloveless. But in any other circumstance, like driving down the road, I cannot deal with other people's body fluids--not even on my windshield. What a way to start the week, huh?

Lucky Little Lamb was feeling most unlucky today. She had a simple visit with her NP to look at her ears. She refused to let her look into her ears with the otoscope. She only consented to the tympanometer (a painless thing, too) if she could hold the probe in her ears herself. Then on the way to her exam room again we ran into Becka, and she fell apart because she wanted Becka's muffin. She has yet to warm up to the whole health care thing. This weekend she fell and scraped both her knees in two separate incidents. I was surprised she let me take them off today. I did it after she'd bathed and they were pretty much falling off anyway. She is not one to be tricked or bargained or bribed into doing something she doesn't want to do. Frustrating as it is at times, I love her independence and willfullness. It will serve her well one day.