I drove too far into the garage today and hit our bbq (what? It's usually not there and I lack depth perception) and a few plastic pieces broke and fell off the grill of my car.  So, I found Jason's auto mechanic spot light.  Popped the hood.  Shined some light on the situation.  Took off all my jew-ree.  Slid my arms down into the engine, essentially.  Shredded my hands, knuckes and forearms on all the sharp shards of plastic.  Saw the broken pieces, but couldn't reach them. Took off my new leather vest and put on a tshirt.  Slid on my back under the car and fingered my way around until I found the broken shards.  Super glued them back together. Then glued them back into place on the front of my car.  Tragedy averted.  And if Jason says anything, I'll just blame the kids. I rule.