I Accomplished Something.

I came home last Sunday afternoon to the *bleep* of my dying smoke detector battery. This presented a problem on several levels.

1) I couldn’t think of any reason why I might have a random 9 volt battery lying around.

2) I’m far too short to reach the smoke detector without assistance, and my daughter’s step stool wasn’t cutting it, which meant I’d have to go out into the scary garage and get the step LADDER.

3) I’d have to unfold the step ladder, and it was sure to be all cobwebby and spidery, having spent most of its life in the scary garage.

4) I’m not capable of doing anything like a normal person. I need melodrama and fanfare.

5) It was Sunday. Isn’t Sunday supposed to be a day of rest or something? I can’t be expected to journey into the scary garage AND climb up a step ladder on the same day, and neither on the designated day of rest!

6) It’s not fair. Why do batteries have to die?

At first I thought, “Well, if it doesn’t beep very often, I can just deal with it until tomorrow.” No sooner than the thought entered my mind, the smoke detector said, “HA! That’s what YOU think!” Well actually it bleeped again, but the intent was clear.

I sighed dejectedly and began searching through the kitchen drawer for a 9 volt battery, which I knew I would never find. Hm. I don’t believe it. Not just one, but a still sealed pack of TWO 9 volt batteries! Jackpot!

I took a deep breath and plunged into the depths of the scary garage, windmilling my arms wildly to cut a path through any potential spider webs. I grabbed the cobwebby spidery step ladder, and quickly made my way back into the safety of my living room, holding the ladder in front of me to ward off any divebomb-y type creatures like wasps, bees, or pterodactyls.

Back in my living room fortress, my smoke detector still sounding its death rattle, I unfolded the step ladder without incident. I climbed up the two steps and deftly gave the dying detector a twist, backed off the ladder, and began trying to unlock the mystery of opening the battery compartment. I placed it on the table to get a better look at it when a tiny spider raced across the table directly towards my abdomen.

After jumping around like a rabid monkey and making a noise that resembled a drunk turkey that had just inhaled a balloon full of helium, I gathered my wits, made my way back to the table and replaced the dying battery with the fresh new one. I knew I had inserted the battery the right way because the detector let out a loud, high-pitched, and completely unexpected scream of joy which set off a reflex reaction in my arms causing them to smack my nose. I once again gathered my wits (what little I had left at this point) and climbed the ladder to re-attach the smoke detector to my ceiling.

With a sense of accomplishment, I took the ladder out to the scary garage leaned the ladder up against the wall in the spare room, dusted off my hands, and spent the rest of the night on the sofa.