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What's the most annoying sound possible at 3 in the morning?

Well, technically, any sound at 3 in the morning is pretty annoying, but I'm thinking a continuous car horn can't be too far from the top of the list.

Some wires got messed up under my hood, and for some reason the car horn would suddenly start blaring at odd moments, stopping only when someone whacked the hood of the car on the right side. Whatever tenuous connection there was would be broken then and the person would grumble and walk back inside.

It only happened once during the day. I wasn't home. I walked in the door and Dad warned me about it, saying if it went off and I heard it, I should just go outside to the driveway and thump the car a good 'un, then go back inside. Chances are, since I spend my nights in the bedroom at the front of the second story (above the driveway) and most of my days in the computer room (front of the first story), I'd be the first to hear it. And since it's my car, it makes sense that I be responsible for shutting it up.

I agreed, not realizing what I was getting into.

At 12:30 a.m., just as I was getting ready for bed, the car sounded off. I shrugged and went downstairs, outside, gave the car a half-cautious slap (didn't want to dent anything new) and it stopped. I figured I was lucky it happened while I still had my shoes on. Since I hadn't heard it all day, I thought that would be it for the night.

2:15, I'm awakened by the not-so-melodious honk, slip on my glasses, turn on the light, put on my shoes again and go to thump the car, this time with a little more force. I couldn't possibly damage the hood any more than I already have, now could I? Walk back to bed hoping it didn't wake any babies up, but I'm pretty sure that since it didn't bother my parents (who are light sleepers; very unfortunate for a girl who used to be an adventurous eleven-year-old with a penchant for early-morning writing at the computer), it wouldn't have bothered any of the surrounding houses.

3:05- The car wails again. I slip on my glasses, decide to leave the light off so it's easier to get back to sleep again, forget the shoes, trudge outside in my socks. The grass is wet. Just my luck the car got alarm-clock aspirations on the night I was wearing my dorky pink nightgown with the blue pockets. Couldn't it have chosen a night when I had something cooler on, like a tank top and my baggy gray sweatpants? Thump the car, don't pause to check if I caused any damage, blearily stumble back up the stairs, go to sleep in damp socks praying, "Please God, let this be the last time."

5:02- Again with the #$%&@*% car horn. No glasses, no shoes, no light, no coherent thought. Sixteen stomps down the stairs, eyes open just enough to avoid crashing into things. Chanting happy thoughts like "die die die die," give the car a resentful WHACK hoping I permanently disabled the battery, sixteen stomps back up the stairs, ahh bed.

6:30- I am not getting it this time. Dad is already supposed to be getting ready for work, he can get it. The sun is in an evil conspiracy with the car to keep me awake. It shines right through my window into my eyes. Three minutes pass with no sign of the horn giving up. I wonder if a baseball bat might silence it forever. Debate whether it's worth the extra repair costs. Give in, get up, worry pent-up rage might break the glasses if I try to put them on at this point, trudge to the top of stairs. Mom is at that moment opening the front door to slip outside and silence the car.

10:30- Everyone had the good sense to let me sleep in. Wake up, feeling slightly (only slightly) better, figure it's a good thing I didn't act on my violent impulses the night before, because Bubbles has been good to me and she can't help that she's broken.

The car is silent the rest of the day. Dad looks under the hood, guesses where the connection was malfunctioning, arranges it so it can't touch. He's confident in his mechanical skills, and doesn't think he needs to disconnect the battery.

Tonight I'm taking a mallet to bed with me.

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