The Smoke-Alarm Sagas

Perhaps someday my smoke alarms will alert me to real danger.

But changing the batteries, man!

Our alarms warn us when their back-up batteries are low by beeping and declaring, in a female British accent, “Low battery!” Invariably, they do this in the middle of the night. And they go off only at oddly spaced intervals, just to make it difficult to figure out which one it is.

The first time the one in our bedroom did this – at 2 am – my husband insisted that we had to change the battery right then. (I was all for heading down to the living room to sleep.)

And that’s when we discovered we didn’t have a tall-enough ladder.

My husband, though, was not to be dissuaded.

So, there we were, him teetering on the very top of the ladder we did have (you know, where the label warns you not to stand), stretching to reach the alarm, me fluttering anxiously beneath. I couldn’t catch him if he fell, I figured, but I could use my body to break his fall, and should concentrate on not letting his pumpkin head hit the floor. Best thinking I could do, at 2 am. (Well, my idea to sleep on the couch was better.)

Oh, and when you plug the alarm back into the ceiling, it automatically sets all of them off. “Fire! Fire! Carbon monoxide!” yell British ladies throughout the house. “Whoop! Whoop!” Lucky it didn’t startle him off the ladder. It did scare the kids awake.

Recently, I changed all the batteries. (Yay, me.)

I was taking down the (now tall-enough) ladder when “Beep. ‘Low battery.’”  Scurried back up, redid that one. Climbed down.

“Beep. ‘Low battery.’”

Back up, put in a different battery. Waited. Nothing. Climbed down.

“Beep. “Low battery.’”

Oh, come on!