You’ve Got to be Kidding Me!

scared

I was snoozing away, while my husband read when he finally turned his Kindle off. He rolled into me and snuggled. A routine for this early riser woman and hardly ever sleeps, man.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I moaned as a deafening beep blasted from the bedroom’s smoke detector. If you were thinking something else, that would be a different story.

We both laid there hoping it was just a fluke, and the detector was back to sleep. But, oh no! Again the thing damn thing sounded again. Don’t get me wrong; I’m thankful for the little invention that has saved so many lives. We have on in every room. A little overkill in my opinion but they were there when we bought the house, so I keep batteries in all of them. I just don’t understand why the batteries always die between two and four in the morning. I swear they watch, waiting until we are sound asleep before their last spark had died.

By the third obnoxious beep, we are throwing covers off, and telling the two quivering dogs to get off the bed. One would expect this if I had two teacup poodles but I have a seventy-two and an eighty-nine Goldendoodle and Labradoodle. They are scared to death of the smoke detector noise. Neither one will move. I finally have to push them off the bed so that I may move.

My husband is up, cursing a blue streak at the detector, Dogs are back on the bed quivering when I realize our bedroom is the one with the vaulted ceilings. Couldn’t be the detector in the hallway or the other bedrooms where only a step ladder will be needed for the battery replacement. More cursing!

The two sissy dogs are all but glued to my every step. Husband returns from the shop, “Where in the hell is our ladder?” More shaking from the dogs because they know daddy’s upset voice.

Explaining that I thought he was going to the shop for the very tall garage ladder, he explains, “No, your ladder.” (My ladder because I bought it especially for myself when I was painting our old house.)

“Oh, it’s in the garage.” Making a move towards the garage door with two large dogs attached to you is not an easy task. The four of us make it out into the garage in one little cluster.  I do manage to hold the door open and hold the dogs back so that Kevin can carry the ladder into the house, through the kitchen, living room, down the hallway and into the bedroom. With every step, the damn beeping is getting louder and louder. Dogs are now about to shake the hair off their backs and panting in fear of the monster that blasts the ear-shattering noise.

After several attempts to make the dogs stay on the bed and out of the way, we managed to unfold the ladder.  After more cursing, the battery was replaced. Peace and quiet spread throughout the house. Well, except for the explanation of how much Kevin hates the smoke detectors and the still shaking dogs.

Thirty minutes later, we all climb back into bed. Kevin is back to sleep within minutes, while I’m left to comfort the still panting dogs and wonder why it seems these things always happen in the middle of the night?

Of course, I was wide awake at my usual six o’clock. I feel a long day coming on.

 

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