The next morning, just after Lewis left for school, the smoke detector in our bedroom started chirping too. Now I like to think of myself as a reasonably competent woman. I may not be able to properly fry an egg, but I can certainly change a battery in a smoke detector. That is, so long as I can reach the smoke detector. You see, our lovely bedroom in our lovely house has lovely vaulted ceilings. They're not super high, but they are high enough that to reach the smoke detector I would probably have to put a chair on a step stool on a chair. And about seven plus nine months ago I promised Lewis I would stop risking my life to access things out of reach (which, coincidentally, is the reason we have a step stool in the first place). So I planned a whole day for Jack and me to be out of the house to remove ourselves from the incessant chirping.
But then the chirping stopped and we stayed home and I forgot about it.
Jack woke up to eat at 5:30 this morning. Shortly after I started feeding him, the chirping in our bedroom started again. Lewis usually gets up at about this time to get ready for school, so naturally this had to happen during spring break and he was still asleep. It hurt my heart to wake him up (I'm a nice wife), but I wanted to go back to sleep so awake Lewis needed to be. The five inches he has on me were just enough to shut that chirping down. We both settled back down to sleep and all was well.
That is, until, I heard three small clicks and that shock of fear ran through my body. I just knew that that was our front door and someone had just broken into our house. I was terrified, particularly since Jack was asleep on the other side of the house. Lewis and I slowly and illogically crept downstairs to confront the intruder. Why we didn't just hunker down in Jack's room with a 911 operator on one of our cell phones, I will never know. I guess we really like our TV. I suppose it's probably a good thing, though, that we didn't because there was no intruder. We peeked outside and found our neighbor fiddling with the Christmas lights on our shared tree. Turns out that three of them right outside our door had exploded (the three clicks we heard) and he was trying to fix them for us. Makes sense. Who doesn't need Christmas lights on in April?
What a night! I remember distinctly thinking that I should definitely blog about this adventure. And then I woke up and realized that I had dreamed everything that had happened after Lewis replaced the smoked detector battery.
Yeah, I think I need more sleep.
|I blame him.|