Recently, on an infusion morning, Ian and the dogs rode with me down the hill to the Essential Baking Company, so Ian could get coffee with me then walk the dogs home for their morning constitutional. Ian had put his stainless steel travel mug in the upper breast pocket of his jacket, which would've been a fine place for it, as it left his hands free for wrangling dogs and hugging me goodbye, except that he forgot about it when he was putting some things in the car for me and it tipped out and spilled coffee all over the front passenger seat. This was not actually a big deal, because the seats are leather and very wipable, and no one was going to be sitting in the passenger seat for a while anyway.
A week or so later, Ian was driving and found the turn indicator lever to be a little sticky on top. "Oh," he said, apologetically. "I'm sorry—I think when I spilled coffee all over it must have gotten on the turn signal."
"No, it didn't," I said, a touch sheepishly. "I've been eating a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich while driving to my riding lesson."
It seems we are perfectly capable of sticking up a car all on our own.