because pushing one car to the mechanic just wasn't enough

Last Tuesday, I was driving to pick up Ceci from school, and my car started to make this awful noise. I decided to detour through the neighborhood, and the noise got worse and worse. Just out of nowhere, it was this loud, LOUD, metal scraping sound. A man was out walking his dogs, and he informed me it was my brakes, and that I better get them checked out. He said the passenger side one was very hot (these are disc brakes). I was not too happy about this, considering we have only had the car for three months, and one would think the dealer would have noticed the pads needed to be replaced. I had not noticed any indicators that there might be a problem with the brakes. When Patrick came home, he pulled the car out, drove about a half a block, and said we better have it towed. Oddly, it did not make the noise in reverse, but what do I know about brakes. Luckily, our insurance will tow us to one of their approved mechanics. So, we had it towed to Town Tire on 6th and 8th by the police station. We used to use Town Tire exclusively, but the last time we went, we kind of felt like they were taking us for a ride, so to speak. But, our new mechanic was way across town, and we figured we couldn't get a tow there because it had to be under 5 miles or something. So, Tuesday night, we had it towed, and prayed it was nothing too awful.

Wednesday morning, Patrick calls me. "Somehow, a bolt got kicked up and wedged against the brake. That is what is making the awful noise. It will cost about $23 to take the bolt out." Hallelujah.

While the car was there, I guess they took off all the wheels to check the brakes. Everything looked pretty good, so they put the wheels back on and called Patrick. I went to pick up the car at about 11:00 Wednesday. Almost immediately upon pulling out, I notice this awful "wubba wubba wubba" noise that I had never heard before. I had to go get Ceci, so I couldn't go back right then, but after picking her up, dropping her off with my mom at my house, and then picking up Henry, I head BACK to Town Tire because the noise is just getting louder. It sounds like a helicopter is trying to land overhead. I go into Town Tire and speak to the man who worked on the car. I start to tell him about the noise, and before I can even finish, he tells me the back tires have some cupping from not being rotated. We go out, he feels the back passenger tire multiple times, his face right down NEXT TO the wheel (remember this), then says we can go for a drive. We go, and it makes the wubba noise. I say, "It was never that loud before." He says, "No, now you are just listening for it." I want to say, "Are you kidding me? There is no way I could have NOT heard this noise before." But I don't. He is convinced it is the bumpy tires. I leave, not entirely sure I believe him. I tell my mom and Patrick, and we all just assume this is how it is going to be, but every time I drive the car, I think, "This is insane. They must have done something. I can not drive around like this." The whole back of the car was shaking.

So, up until Sunday, Patrick hadn't really driven my car. On Sunday morning, we leave for Orlando to go to my god-daughter (!) Ellie Hoyer's baptism. We got on I-75, and the noise is getting louder and louder. Patrick says, as we are going through the Prairie (right outside of Gainesville), "It wasn't this loud when we were driving to and from the Farm. Something is not right." I say, "Thank you! At least I am not crazy. What do you think it could be?" We were about to find out. We hear a loud "thunk" from the back passenger side wheel. It sounded like a blowout, except we could still drive. Patrick pulls over on the side of I-75, and I get out to see if the tire is flat. It is not, but the wheel looks, well, the angle wasn't right. Patrick comes around, looks at the wheel, looks at me, and says in disbelief, "There is only one lug nut on that wheel." I look down. Yes, the wheel was slightly tilted because IT WAS ABOUT TO COME OFF THE CAR. The wheel had come off so much, that it sliced off the top of one of the bolts. We think that was the "thunk" we heard. To say we were furious is an understatement. After a flash of what we were just saved from, we have a moment of, "Dear God, we are stranded on the side of the interstate with three kids!" when Patrick says, "Okay, I'll just take one lug nut from each of the other wheels and put them on this one." (This is why I married him, folks.) So, here his is, in his white dress khakis, laying in the grass on the side of 75, jacking the car up. It only took about 15 minutes, and we made it to the baptism in one (sweaty) piece, and before the godfather even (no surprise). But the thought that we could have been KILLED because someone was careless enough to not put the lug nuts back on the wheel did not escape us.