CHIRP!

Chirp! . . . . . . . . . . 10 or so seconds later Chirp! or was that a Squeak?  Wait. There it is again. Definitely more of a loud Chirp than the squeak of shoes on a polished floor. Chirp!  I’m finally distracted enough to look around. Two computers are on, two cell phones are on, the television in the den is on, Hubby is working in the kitchen and the cat family is outside waiting to be fed. There are a lot of possible sources for a chirp.  Chirp!

“Honey, do you hear that noise?”

“What noise?”

“That chirping sound.”

“Yeah.”

“Where is it coming from?”

“The smoke detector.”

“I thought the smoke detector was hard wired into the house’s electricity.”

“It is.”

“So why is it chirping?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do we get rid of it?”

“I don’t know, I’ll check it out.”

“OK, thanks. Are you sure it is the smoke detector and not the carbon monoxide detector?” (I ask this because when I walk into the den the sound seems to be coming from close to the floor rather than close to the ceiling, but, well, you know, it one of those wife things . . . . . . just let the big guy put on his macho protecting the family aura.

“I’m sure. The carbon monoxide detector is plugged into the wall so we know it has power.”

“Maybe it has a backup battery.”

“NO!  It is the smoke alarm. I’ll check it out. Maybe it picked up the light or smoke from the Hanukkah candles.”

We’ve never had a problem with the Hanukkah candles in the past, even on the last night with nine candles burning down. The chirping continues. Annoying sound. Hubby opens the back door, office windows, bathroom windows and kitchen windows in a display of trying to get smoke out of the house. I’m grateful that it isn’t too cold outside and thus this airing out process isn’t turning the house into an ice box. Still, every 10 or so seconds there is a high pitched CHIRP!  I compensate for the noise and de-stress from the activity by sitting at the computer, putting on headphones and listening to Christmas music – Toby Keith Christmas music to be precise. From the corner of my eye, looking around the edge of the office door, I finally see hubby getting out the step ladder, looking at the smoke alarm, going back and forth to the stash of batteries, looking at the control panel for the alarm system. Alarms go off, alarms are canceled. I sit at my desk and keep quiet.

At last Hubby announces that he has it fixed.  He walks into another part of the house. CHIRP!  He walks back into the den.

“Honey, it is still chirping.”

“I hear it.”

“Honey, don’t be annoyed, please humor me and unplug the carbon monoxide detector.”

Hubby grumbles but unplugs it and brings it to me. I figure out how to open the back and take out a 9 volt battery.

“Check whether the backup battery is still good.”

“OK.”

SILENCE. It is QUIET.

No chirping. NONE. Not even an itsy, bitsy baby squeak.

“Ah, honey . . .”

“Yeah, I know. It was the carbon monoxide detector backup battery.”

“Thanks honey, I’m so glad you figured it out.”  That is all I can get out before I turn my back and stifle the laughter.

Anyone able to relate?

Every Day Is A Good Day. VJ

P.S. We got out a new 9-volt battery but it wouldn’t fit. It seems that the connection inside the detector only hooks up to a Duracell 9-volt, and not to an Ever-ready. Really. One connector is round and one is more of a squared off design. Hubby treks to the store to get the other brand of battery. It connects as it should. Plug detector back into wall. The adventure is over.  VJ


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