Yesterday morning we were rudely awakened by a strangely incessant honking. The beeping sound went off for almost a minute before I asked John what he thought it was.
Apparently the groggy husband thought it was his alarm as he began pushing buttons on the little black box beside him. Finally he said,
"I can't tell if it's outside or inside."
"Definitely outside," I replied.
I wanted to call the cops because someone was outside honking and it was incredibly un-thoughtful. What if it woke up my baby? That may be impossible, but it certainly woke me up.
John got up and looked out the windows, then decided to grab some clothes. I thought about the treasure hunt to find the source of the persistent beeping and how I would love to participate, if only. If only I were awake at 6am. Or if only I were dressed. If only I could call the cops and go back to sleep instead of actually having to be awake when they finally arrived. Besides by then the sound would probably be gone. If only.
That is when it hit me: I was awake and dressed! Right. So I proceeded to follow my husband down the stairs to the door. As soon as it was opened, the high pitched squeak was amplified. Definitely outside.
We started looking at the cars. One had it's door open, and I wondered who would have come and opened this guy's car door and set of his horn indefinitely.
As we advanced on the little red car we left behind the airspace in which audible speaking sounds were audible.
Just then up popped our neighbor, and the owner of the little red Mazda. He was crouched down next to the door, apparently attempting, in vain I might add, to alleviate our suffering. He bent back down to his steering column, and John began his approach.
"You will scare him," I warned.
"What?" John shouted back.
"You are going to sneak up on him, and startle him!" I yelled louder.
As our neighbor walked around the car to take a little peak under the hood we stepped forward and he spotted us. He nodded towards us with a sheepish grin, sleep-tousled hair and pajamas. His wife entered the scene, and we began to discuss the pros and cons of waking up to your car horn instead of your alarm clock. They had also mistaken the initial siren as their dinging ringing bell tolling wake up time. Upon further investigation of their alarm clock, the sound didn't go away for them either.
And now here we were. John started jogging for the house and announced as he passed me that he was grabbing a flashlight. Our little red Mazda owner also ran for his house. Soon they were back with toolboxes. Or toolboxen if you like Brian Reagan. John thought they should disconnect the battery. Neighbor man was trying to unplug various cords and plugs under the hood. Apparently disconnecting the battery was not easy or fun enough to try first.
Neighbor wife and I decided we would best serve our DH's by asking "our friend" Google what he thought. No sooner had we entered my house and typed Google into the browser but the never ending song was ended. We ran outside to congratulate our spouses and find out what actually worked. The neighbors were sufficiently embarrassed by the whole situation, and we kept saying, "at least it's not 3am," in order to console one another. Some of our other darling neighbors stood on their porch having a smoke and taking in the scene.
We asked the men what they did, and the report was the battery was now disconnected. How fun. And when they moved the cable back within conducting electricity range the horn beeped.
"It's still on," groaned the little red Mazda owner.
John gathered his tools and flashlight and we waved good-bye. John was particularly happy to have been awakened at six as needed, although not in a conventional way. He was certain he would have missed his bus otherwise.
I was so happy to be celebrating the first day of fall that I made John a whole lunch, and was nice enough to be nice to Thomas when he woke up closer to seven.
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