After a wonderful playdate with Auntie Sabrina and her fabulous sons, I entered the house (T-minus 25-minutes til Bethanny Getting Married on TiVo, I mean Naptime) and I hear three quick beeps. Then again...again...again.
I figured a toy had been left but after a tedious game of "Where the F&%# is that noise coming from?!!" I realized it was the house alarm system kindly letting me know the "Kitchen Heat Battery Low."
I called Cindy at the alarm company.
"You need to get the monitor and let me know what model number it is," she said.
"God forbid they keep this seemingly vital information in their computer," I thought as I stared 9-feet into the air where the monitor hangs over the fridge.
I would have let it go but there was no way Baby Boy would nap with this torturous noise.
"Hold on," I sighed and put Cindy down to wait on the counter. I dragged a stool over to the fridge but couldn't quite reach. I managed to climb on top of the fridge cabinet and snatched the monitor off the wall when....
ERRRRRKKKKKKKKK
The tell-tale sound of the chair being pulled across the floor.
"OOOOOO NOOOOOO Baby--uh-uh Mommy needs that chair!"
That made him drag it faster away laughing and yelling "NO NO NO!!"
Long story short: I ended up having to hang from the cabinets and drop several feet onto the floor while Cindy got to hear a creative thesaurus of "Oh darn!"
The worst part is that I saw what happens when you don't dust the tops of things for 6-years.
Guess where I'm heading now....
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