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I could tell you about how Kathryn and I made a trip to the pediatrician's office this morning, but I won't, because it's boring and turns out every thing is fine with our daughter. I'm just one of those paranoid moms.

I was going to tell you some thing hysterical and funny and life changing, but I've completely blanked on what that amusing anecdote was. Perhaps some thing will jog my memory and I can write about that later. I doubt it, though. Once it's gone from my brain these days, it's completely lost and never coming back.

What I will tell you is how this crazy guy ran in front of my car on Saturday. There I was, driving through our neighborhood, chatting with Brien on my cell phone about picking up some spray paint while I was running errands. I slowed down because I noticed the same loose dog on the side of the road that I've seen many times before. And then, all of the sudden, this moron was running out of the park and right in front of my vehicle. Thankfully the damn dog slowed me down. Had I been going the speed limit, or 50 mph like most people drive through our neighborhood, the guy would probably have been flattened like a pancake.

I slammed on my breaks and started yelling, oh my God! What the fuck? Poor Brien, he was probably having a heart attack and thinking, what the hell did you hit now? Not that I get in to very many accidents, mind you, but I had a nice streak going a few years ago.

The guy was running in place in front of the car and turned to face me. Oh great, here we go, I thought. He's going to shoot me! Instead, he took off running East and never looked back.

And I continued on my merry way. As merry as can be after you nearly hit some one with your car.