I posted last week about being frustrated my washing machine has a broken part. It turns out last week also saw a shelf in my brand-spanking-new (well, Mudda bought it for me in August) refrigerator, and the keyfob for my car. The shelf and keyfob were not more than a hassle, really. Remember when we used to use a key to get into a car? Well, I had to use my key. I'd not noticed until now that there's only one keyed entry on the car - the driver's side - and not into the passenger door or the trunk, as I recall on my vehicles made before 1990.
Lindsay had a nap, and awoke grumpy. I was carrying Linds under an arm, kicking and screaming, along with her shoes. I had my denim jacket with my keys in the pocket under my other arm. I realized I had to set Lindsay, still screaming down, to get the keys out of my pocket. I did, picked her up and went to unlock the door with the key. Somehow I managed to set off the panic system, so the horn began beeping and all the lights flashing. Without a working keyfob, there's no way to turn it off.
Beep beep beep, honked the car as I unlocked the doors. Beep beep beep, as I put Lindsay into her carseat, no longer kicking and screaming, but with wide eyes. Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep. I started the car. Beep beep beep. Locked and unlocked. Beep beep beep. I stepped away from the car and called the service center. Beep beep beep. There's no off switch. Beep beep beep. "Maybe it will work over the phone if you call your husband?" Beep beep beep. Neighbors have begun gathering in my driveway, making their own suggestions of Alfredo who replaces watch batteries. But now it is 3:15 and I am late to get Lauren. "Can I drive the car with it going off?" I asked the mechanic impatiently. "You will probably get pulled over." He replied. "Well, I can live with that," I replied.
"They'll hear ya comin'," my neighbor Ed added helpfully.
As it turned out, the horn stopped beeping once the car was in drive, and as long as you didn't open or close a door, or put the car into park, the car was silent. Of course, I had to open the door to let Lauren in, and a small crowd gathered to see why some maniac mom was honking her horn and flashing her lights. Beep beep beep. I rolled down the window, "My car is broken, so sorry," I shouted at the staring crowd who nodded sadly in reply. Beep beep beep. "It's been doing this for a half hour now," I added. Beep beep beep.
I drove the car to the dealership. My new friend Stu the mechanic gave my girls each a package of cookies, replaced the batteries in my fob, and set us off on our merry way within 30 minutes, all for no charge.