Bubba: If you bring your car to the farm tomorrow, I'll check your brakes.
Me: Good. That sound is awful.
Him: It wasn't that bad when I drove it.
Me: Well, it sounds like it is going to explode when you stop.
We were lying in bed, tying up the loose ends of the day. I was already half asleep. It was the ungodly hour of 10 o'clock, after all.
Me, yawning: It does. I told you that.
Him: No, you told me it was when you pressed the brake hard. It's doing it all the time? What does it sound like?
I decided that I better wake up to explain.
Me: When I stop at the end of the driveway, it sounds like this (thumping, hollow growl).
Him: It's not screeching?
Me, laughing: No. Before it was going (kettle-like squeal) but now, it sounds like this (thumping growl).
Him: Does it sound like it's dragging?
Me: I don't know. It sounds like this (louder thumping, hollow growl).
Him, exasperated: You didn't tell me that.
Me: Yes, I did. I told you it was making a weird noise.
"Weird noise" is not specific enough for Bubba. He also detests when I use the word "thingy" when I don't know what a part or tool is called. "It's a torque wrench, not a 'thingy'."
Him: I'll look at it tomorrow.
He promptly fell asleep. Now fully awakened by my own howling , I sighed, pulled out my book, and read until I got sleepy again.
The sound was caused by my worn brake pads. They'd worn on the inside, so he didn't see it right away. However, they were starting to tear on the rotor. (I don't really know what any of that means. In fact, I had to google how to spell "rotor".)
The next day, Bubba put on my new brake pads, using his torque wrench or whatever that thingy is called.