Truck!
Last night I went to school to pick Colin up as usual. I pulled in, turned the car off, went inside, and eventually caught my son (who was sprinting in circles around the room exclaiming "I'm running! I'm running! I'm running!"). I got his jacket on, we left his room, made the usual detours (he has to stop in the kitchen and count the four apple pictures on the fridge, then a second stop in the library where he demands that I sit down and read him a book), then out to the car. I buckled him into his carseat, gave him a quick kiss, then went around to the driver's seat to get in and get us home for dinner.
I turned the key and... nothing.
I tried again, still nothing.
Lights are working, radio is working... must not be the battery. Hmmm....
I checked the manual and noticed there is an ignition "lockout" function, and if this happens a green idiot-light in the shape of a key will light on the dashboard. And every time I tried to get the car to start the green key light kept flashing, so I figured that must be what happened. I couldn't imagine how, but there it was.
Thankfully the car came with roadside assistance, and Colin was by then happily playing Itsy-Bitsy (a game on my iPod Touch), so I made the call and they arranged to send a tow to take the car to the dealership. It was getting pretty darned cold in the car, so we went back inside the school and Colin played with the carts, legos, puzzles and puppet stage until the tow arrived. Then the real show began.
First of all, I swear to you I was still in NJ but the tow truck drive who showed up was a cowboy. Most likely the little brother of the Marlboro Man. He was tall, fresh-faced, quite young (at least to my aged eyes!), and was dressed in a flannel shirt, faded jeans, cowboy boots and (I swear!) a crumpled cowboy hat. I asked if he knew anything about the ignition cutoff, just in case we could avoid the insanity of the tow and having to work with the (always expensive!) dealership service department, but he said he only knew how to hook the car up to the tow truck. Oh well!
Then he started the process of angling the flatbed of the tow truck and moving the car onto the tow truck, and Colin was fascinated. He went silent, stopped wiggling, craned his head forward with his eyes wide open and just stared in wonder as the back of the truck tilted and slid, the cowboy hooked up the chains to the car, and eventually the flatbed returned back to position. The only thing that finally broke his concentration was when H pulled up - then he simply shouted "Daddy!!!" and lunged to hug his father.
I'd laugh about how fascinated little Colin was by the whole process, but frankly I was interested too. I'm always amazed at machinery like that!
(End result: apparently the battery was dead, and everything was covered under the warranty so aside from the inconvenience of being stuck at the school for an extra hour last night and having to coordinate our lives with one car this morning, things worked out pretty darned well. And Colin had an adventure so I guess everyone wins! Hooray!)
I turned the key and... nothing.
I tried again, still nothing.
Lights are working, radio is working... must not be the battery. Hmmm....
I checked the manual and noticed there is an ignition "lockout" function, and if this happens a green idiot-light in the shape of a key will light on the dashboard. And every time I tried to get the car to start the green key light kept flashing, so I figured that must be what happened. I couldn't imagine how, but there it was.
Thankfully the car came with roadside assistance, and Colin was by then happily playing Itsy-Bitsy (a game on my iPod Touch), so I made the call and they arranged to send a tow to take the car to the dealership. It was getting pretty darned cold in the car, so we went back inside the school and Colin played with the carts, legos, puzzles and puppet stage until the tow arrived. Then the real show began.
First of all, I swear to you I was still in NJ but the tow truck drive who showed up was a cowboy. Most likely the little brother of the Marlboro Man. He was tall, fresh-faced, quite young (at least to my aged eyes!), and was dressed in a flannel shirt, faded jeans, cowboy boots and (I swear!) a crumpled cowboy hat. I asked if he knew anything about the ignition cutoff, just in case we could avoid the insanity of the tow and having to work with the (always expensive!) dealership service department, but he said he only knew how to hook the car up to the tow truck. Oh well!
Then he started the process of angling the flatbed of the tow truck and moving the car onto the tow truck, and Colin was fascinated. He went silent, stopped wiggling, craned his head forward with his eyes wide open and just stared in wonder as the back of the truck tilted and slid, the cowboy hooked up the chains to the car, and eventually the flatbed returned back to position. The only thing that finally broke his concentration was when H pulled up - then he simply shouted "Daddy!!!" and lunged to hug his father.I'd laugh about how fascinated little Colin was by the whole process, but frankly I was interested too. I'm always amazed at machinery like that!
(End result: apparently the battery was dead, and everything was covered under the warranty so aside from the inconvenience of being stuck at the school for an extra hour last night and having to coordinate our lives with one car this morning, things worked out pretty darned well. And Colin had an adventure so I guess everyone wins! Hooray!)
Comments