Sunday, March 3, 2013


I hate smoke detectors.  I know, I know... they save a lot of lives.  One or two are okay.  But when we built our house, County Building Code required us to place a smoke detector in each of the four bedrooms; a fifth one in the upstairs hallway; a sixth one in the downstairs foyer; and number seven just inside the garage door.  They are all hard-wired in and if one goes off, they all go off, creating a noise loud enough to tear a whole in the fabric of Space-Time.  Here's the fun part... occasionally, one starts to chirp intermittently, for no apparent reason.

Such was the case tonight.  The smoke detector in the upstairs office/bedroom began to chirp.  At first, PilotHusband didn't notice this because he was laying on the sofa, watching yet another war movie with the volume set on level 43. APW and FuturePilotSon tried to fix the problem.  We got up on a ladder and dusted for any spider webs that may have triggered the sensors.  We went downstairs and searched the kitchen junk drawers for a new 9 volt battery, in case that was the issue.  Simultaneously, we called "Uncle Red" to have him talk me through closing the electrical circuit on this particular smoke detector.

Meanwhile, PilotHusband finally heard the sound and leap into action.  While APW and FuturePilotSon were in the kitchen, PilotHusband went upstairs and did the only reasonable thing.  He began to beat the smoke detector with a broom handle until it fell apart in several pieces all over the floor.  With live wires hanging, PilotHusband declared the Beast had been slayed, and retreated once again to the comfort of the sofa, and the Military Channel.  Problem solved.

Well... at least he didn't call Maintenance and wait at Starbucks.

1 comment:

  1. Your post sounds all-so-familiar. My smoke alarm (all 12 of them, hard-wired in) incident occurred at midnight. Waking me from a deep sleep. MY pilot husband FINALLY ran upstairs, because he fell asleep on the couch again because his trip was SO long and his body’s all jacked up with the time changes. He basically ran around between bedrooms in a circle like a dog chasing his tail. Clearly he wasn’t making things better. I took control of the situation, identified which smoke detector that was the instigator, ran down to the basement to grab the extra batteries and step stool. Pilot husband STILL chasing his tail at the top of the stairs, I opened the step stool, handed him the battery and pointed upwards.

    After all the commotion as I was laying back in bed, and he of course back on the couch (jetlag’s a beast), I thought about all the emergency situations our husbands are put into for their jobs. Really!!?!? What happens when an alarm goes off in the cockpit? Do they look at each other and say, “dame, I wish my wife was here” or in your case, “damn, I wish I had a broom handle.” Aren’t they “trained” to be calm under pressure?

    Who knows. At least they married smart, calm women.