That Wretched Rattle

There was a noise.   It was a little noise, but it was a noise that shouldn't have been there.   It was a noise that happened almost regularly, but not always.   And most infuriating of all, it was a noise I couldn't locate.

The minivan is a highly-useful vehicle I am so glad we decided to get.   With very few exceptions, I am completely and totally happy with it.   About a month ago the car developed a rattle.   It should have been a very easy rattle to figure out, because when you're driving, it's clear there's something like a marble in the cup holder in the center console.    Only there wasn't.

There are four cup holders in the center console and a big, open area underneath.   I looked through everything in there and there was nothing that seemed to be the culprit.   I found a "trash can ring" thing in the back of the center console that lifted up and was designed to hold a trash bag, only lifted up it didn't change the marble rattling sound I kept hearing.

Today I had just had it with the left turn, right turn rattle.   (I named it that because it rattled every time you turned.)   I pulled into a large parking lot and parked.  I pulled everything out of the center console.  I pulled everything out of the little compartment in the front of the dash, even though that wasn't where the sound was coming from.    Then I drove around the parking lot again, taking quick turns and swearing because the rattle was still there.

Was there a secret compartment in the center console?   I found a handle and pulled and discovered it was the handled that released the center console altogether.   I took it and pushed it into the back of the car and discovered a metal hook stuck underneath.  "AH HA!" (I said that loudly to myself in the car.)  "I would have never found that if I hadn't gotten really annoyed," I thought.    I drove off to confirm, doing another loop and heard the rattle, just like before, unchanged and persistently there.  

There was more swearing.   I took the free-standing center console and jangled it around, but I heard nothing from it.   I put it back in place and got into the back seat.   I shut the sliding door to the left and tried to get around the car seat to see if anything had been dropped into the compartments there.   I found goo.   I found crumbs.   And there was a french fry.

I closed the door to the right and checked there and found a coin stuck to the bottom of a pouch with some unknown substance.   Then, in the cup holder right at floor level, I found a half-inch long piece of green crayon.   Hard green crayon that had been rolling around every time I turned left or right.

I was too sticky to say, "AH HA!" again, but I was victorious, and that was enough.   I was able to get to the wipes easily, because everything we stored in the center console was sitting on the passenger seat.

The car was much quieter on the way home.   That could have been because there were no children in it, but regardless, there was no rattle.

The Big Boy Update:  I asked my son if he had had any new lessons in school lately.   He told me he had been working with the red and blue rods.  I asked him if he could tell me more about the work.   He was silent for a bit and then he said, "I'm telling you something with my mind."  I explained that was called, "telepathy" and that I was impressed.   He told me he was telling me how he worked with the red and blue rods.   (I still don't know how he works with the red and blue rods.)

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter came down for breakfast and looked at the sun coming in the windows.  She said, "too bright!" and shut the first blind.   Then she said, "too bright!" as she shut each subsequent blind.