Smoke Alarm

There is no more irritating chore than hunting down the smoke alarm that is chirping because of a low battery. For some this experience hasn’t occurred yet, and for others you know the exact date you last changed the batteries and religiously change them before the battery dies. For the former, just wait. This is so much fun. For the latter, we all don’t like you and you’re I’m-better-than-the-smoke-detector-battery-life attitude. First the battery always dies at night? It just waits all day and into the night until the house is quiet and you’re snuggled into bed. and then you suddenly hear beep. You curse the darn smoke detector and it’s dumb battery and the battery’s existence because there’s no way you can go back to sleep because you know it won’t stop. You throw back the blanket in disgust and stomp out of the room. But who the heck knows where the sound is coming from. You wait. And wait. And wait. And then wait. It’s only probably 45 seconds but at that moment you’re sure it’s about 10 minutes. And then beep. And you dash to where you think you heard it. And wait again. This repeats 4 or 5 (hundred) times as you whip open doors and dash up and down stairs. And then finally you’re standing under an alarm and beep and the noise is deafening. You found it! Hooray! Parade for you in the morning!! You grab the closest chair/bathroom trashcan/recycling bin, climb up, and rip the smoke alarm off the ceiling. You quickly turn it around.

And can’t get the darn battery door open.

Finally you pry it off, pretty sure you won’t be able to get it back on and tear out the battery like your life depended on it. beep It’s the wrong detector. For me that’s usually when the swearing gets kicked up a notch. I usually repeat this process twice, for laughs, and then end up with smoke detectors lying around the house, their battery doors hanging on for dear life and batteries strewn about all amidst a clutter of furniture that looks like someone failed at building a fort. And then in a moment of shining glory the thing beeps while it’s in your hand and you know it’s the offending offender and you get the battery out and triumphantly march to the junk drawer in the kitchen and pull out the package of batteries and. And. AND. It’s empty At that point I toss the alarm on the counter, cross my fingers an electrical fire doesn’t start in the following 24 hours, and go back to bed.

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