Kicking Neurotic Up A Notch

Mr. Tantrum has been very "helpful" lately by telling me all about the goings on in the world, and the neighborhood. Usually this is just stuff like "Some lady in England took a poop and out came a baby elephant." Or "I talked to Bob today and he and Mary bought a 75 foot Yacht to sail around the world in, they are dumb." 

This week his tidbits are not so much helpful as enough to make me more panic stricken and neurotic than usual. 

Apparently our good friends down the street (um 3 doors down the street) were greeted by someone tapping on their re-lite (that is a tiny glass window by the front door) with something metal at about 3am. Bob immediately grabbed his shotgun and was going to greet the SOB at the front door, but Mary turned on the light and scared them away. The police said that the crime rate in the neighborhood has increased over the past year 150% and this was not the first attempted break in...

Not something I wanted to hear or know. 

I started looking for the butcher knife that I slept with under my pillow when Mr. Tantrum and I were first married and he moved to Washington while I was still in Oregon getting things settled before I joined him. (I forgot that Mr. Tantrum got rid of it when he found out that I was sleeping with a knife.)  I realized too that it probably isn't a good idea to sleep with a knife, EVER. 

Then Mr. Tantrum told me about the 4 year old little boy who was found wandering alone at a rest stop 70 miles from his home. This boy informed the people that found him that STRANGERS had burst into his house shot his mommy, took things from the house that weren't theirs, and drove him there and left him. The good thing was that the little boy was ALIVE AND SAFE, and that he was smart enough to be able to tell them his phone number, address, and name as well as both of his parents names. The horrific thing was that he saw his mother MURDERED in front of him. 

I started looking for a plastic bubble big enough to put Bacon in. 

I also started wondering what kind of disservice I was doing by not making sure that he knows our address and phone number. He is almost 5, BUT with Asperger's I worry that he will babble off that info to the wrong freak of the week and they will follow us home and steal my garden gnomes. (Although this is the child that is TERRIFIED of talking to Santa, or anyone for that matter that he doesn't really know.)

I am also now worried at EVERY SOUND and CREAK that I hear at night, CERTAIN that someone is trying to get in and GET US. 

Maybe I need more medication, or maybe I need to just plug my ears and sing "Connect The Dots, La La La" when Mr. Tantrum starts talking about anything. The world is scary...I know that, I get that, you don't need to REMIND me of it. It makes me freakier than normal, and more neurotic than normal, and YOU KNOW THAT. 

Maybe if I wrap him in bubble wrap tonight to "protect" him he'll understand that he needs to lay off the bad news.