I sometimes think I shouldn't be allowed out on my own.
I always struggle with bags, keys, scarf, and glasses. Last time I bought flowers I may just as well have paid for them, dropped them and jumped up and down on them the number of times they ended up on the floor on the way to going home.
And then today, as if that wasn't enough, I got in the car, turned on the radio and the music that came out was Rondo alla Turca by Mozart. The very music I chose to focus on during my long slow first labour. (Choosing music to sing along to/concentrate on to distract you from the pain was encouraged in those days; I don't know if it still is.) Instantaneously I was back in that delivery room breathing, panting, pushing, screaming.
I switched the radio off.