When it rains...

The headlight on my passenger side has burned out. I had anticipated that we'd take care of it over the weekend, but we forgot. I'd been taking Dada's car in the evening to pick up Thing One from work so that I wouldn't have to tempt fate to warn me about said headlight. His car needed to be run anyway as he usually takes the truck and we'd had some really cold temps. So no problem until...

He took the car to the airport for this trip. And it's dark. 

And it's raining.

Stink. 

Now, the truck is an automatic and therefore in theory I could drive it. However, it is also humungous and I am not a country girl who can drive/park/back up just about anything. Let's just say spatial awareness is not my greatest strength. So for my virgin truck driving experience to be in the dark and in the rain is probably not the very best possible idea. 

 I opt for risking a nighttime drive in Pepe the Pilot, the one headlight wonder.

My entire way north to pick up said kid, I'm chanting, "no cops, no cops, no cops, no cops" and humming Tom Petty's "One Headlight."

I end up in the lane beside and behind one once I'm in town. Whew. 

A mile down the road, maybe two miles, in the dark, in the rain, my driver's side wiper suddenly flips so that it looks like a smile and starts thudding along my windshield. Are you even kidding me? What the heck? Pepe hangs out in the garage. I haven't had to scrape the windshield, there's no ice jamming anything, I didn't hit a bird. ARE YOU EVEN KIDDING ME? 

It is doing no good at all. Then it jams, wedging itself under the hood. The passenger side one stops and, figuring it can't get any worse, I turn them both off. It looks like I am underwater. There's rain all down my windshield, a ditch along my right side, one pitiful headlight doing its best, I can see not only the road signs sticking straight up but also their reflections in the water pooling on the road, and yay, here comes a roundabout! Good times! "Oooooone headlight..."

My chant changed to, "ack! Need a cop, need a cop, need a cop, need a cop..."

Thankfully, I am a mile or two from where I need to be and the lighting is better as I'm heading into town. With my eyes glued to the line at the side of the road, "eek, where'd it go? Okay, follow the center line..." I navigate safely into the parking lot, zip up my raincoat, and then investigate the dratted wiper. I manage to unwedge it (apparently that's not a word, but I'm claiming it as one. Right now.) and as I wiggle it around I am left holding the long blade piece and a clippy piece. In theory, these things fit together and then fit back onto the arm that is poking straight up into the rain. I am unsure of my ability to click everything back together in a manner that will A) last the ride home and B) actually be helpful.

So I do what women have been doing for thousands of years. 

I march into the business where I'm picking up my child anyway, greet the cop I know who happens to work there as I drip on his rug, and chirp, "could you please help a damsel in distress?"

For his part, he was already in his raincoat and was cheerful enough to not only venture into the rain with me but also gave me a rudimentary lesson on "if this should ever happen again" insert clippy thing A into slot B and what have you. 

I kept quiet about the headlight. After all, he IS a cop...

We turned the wipers on and lo and behold they worked perfectly. Thank you, thank you, thank you! 

On the return trip my TPMS button lit up. 

Thing One mused, "hmm, Toilet Papered My Self?" Works for me. Pretty sure it's tire pressure something something but I like her version much better. 

Now sometimes this button comes on, hangs out for a moment, and then turns back off. Usually when it's really cold and I've just gone from the relative warmth of the garage to outside on a frosty road surface. However, it was warm enough to be raining a decent amount and the button didn't click back off. It was still lit when we pulled into the garage.

Strike three, Pepe, and you're out. I'd love to stay and chat, but we are headed to the dealer to sort out the Shenanigans. 

Special thanks to the terrific cop who is the epitome of protect and serve, and who is a pretty terrific person all around. Really appreciate it. Thanks for saving our bacon!

*Update: Pepe received his new headlight, a new battery, and a new rear passenger side tire pressure sensor and I was told, "your friend did a great job fixing that wiper!"