Today, I went to skewl. Everything was good.
Got home, went to the courthouse to see if I could throw the book at the person who stole my checkbook.
Turns out, they didn't need me, as they're going to assess the criminal for drug rehab, and hopefully put her in a lockdown facility. My wife and I spent well over two hours waiting.
So, we go to pick up our daughter from the babysitter's, and things are going well, right up until the lunges at the door. I grab her, because I'm dog-o-phobic and they have an enormous dog that I thought was outside. When I grab her, she does that "I'm not getting my way so I'm going to throw myself on the floor" thing, and I hear one of the most awful crunch-pop-crack noises come from her wrist, and she starts screaming as if I'm murdering her. Oh, crap.
So, we go up to the Urgent Care (kind of like a mini-ER), get her x-rays, get her checked out, and she seems to be okay. She's in a sling, but they didn't find any breaks, so they're calling it a sprain. She has to go back in a week to get checked over again, because apparently sometimes breaks in little ones take a while to show. Up to two weeks, even.
My daughter is sleeping peacefully. I may have a nightmare tonight, the first in a long, long time. Guilt does crazy things to me, and right now, I have enough to go around.