yesterday today tomorrow

I was sleeping peacefully under at least three big, heavy blankets last night when I heard a noise.
No, not the noise of an intruder, an electronic noise. A beeping noise.
I assumed it was Youngest's alarm clock - and, though I realized it was two in the morning, figured it was, or he was, a little confused.
But it was not Youngest's alarm and I began wandering the house in an attempt to find it.
Two flights down, in the furnace room of the basement, the carbon monoxide alarm was beeping away, in an insistent way. I got a little nervous as Youngest happened to be across the hall playing a video game (I KNOW) and there I was, in my tee shirt, thinking his lungs are not the best ones to battle LETHAL GAS. Also, he was, for reasons unknown to me, ignoring this alarm.
Up the stairs I raced. Sort of. I woke K who also seemed to be able to ignore this alarm and told him what was going on.
Down in the furnace room we realized that the alarm was telling us there were 221ppm of gas! In our house!
K unplugged the thing and brought it into the backyard where it continued to beep for a few more minutes.
It was 16 degrees out there but he was wearing his flannel yukata so it was all good.
We plugged it back in and the beeping continued and that, my friends, is when we realized we need THE FIRE DEPARTMENT.
Now, I've done this before but it's exciting each time.
This time, I forgot I had my nightguard in and dialed 911.
My gath alarm ith beeping, said I.
Yer WHAT?!
I realized my speech was impaired, removed the nightguard and two minutes later a nice policeman, the Fire Chief and five underage firefighters were in my living room.
On their advice I woke Middle and Oldest (who live on the first floor) to insure that they had not been POISONED by the LETHAL GAS.
Middle arrived just as they were walking through the rooms with the wires and meters and was already wearing his uniform of black jeans and a black tee shirt. Had it not been 2:45am, I'm quite sure he would have photographed the proceedings.
Oldest, on the other hand, appeared in his snazzy Old Navy boxers and no shirt (and several large tattoos) but, just when I was feeling a little awkward about that, he and the fire squad realized they knew each other and there was much jovial hey man, how's it goin being flung around my living room.
Of course it was the monitor that was malfunctioning, which is an iffy thing to think about as one trudges back to bed and sleep.
We're all still alive!


Middle has announced that this weekend is MIDDLE LEARNS TO DRIVE, PART THREE. And this is fine with me as I like spending time with Middle in an enclosed environment. We'll talk, we'll laugh, he'll learn to drive!
What jars my nerves more is the realization (made last Tuesday) that IN FOUR SHORT MONTHS YOUNGEST WILL BE ABLE TO DRIVE.
You remember Youngest, don't you? He looks JUST LIKE THIS:

Everyone will be DRIVING.

Today? Today I had lunch with my friend IS. IS makes me smile so hard my face hurts. IS is worried about his little dog, Zoloft, who is having back problems.
IS was wearing a wonderful hat and a gorgeous sweater and I just wanted to knock him over and hug him.
I tried to remain as professional as possible.
I really need to figure out a way to see him more frequently.

I'm off like a dirty shirt!
(My mother taught me that one when I was little.)


Anonymous said…
Thanks be to the Ps-that-Be that you heard that alarm.

I know what you mean about Youngest and the driving. I freaked myself out the other day because my kiddo is going to graduate from high school and most likely move away--in thirteen years! It's just going to fly by and I got all weepy just thinking about it.

The Coffee Lady said…
If you put him in the wash on a high setting maybe you could shrink him down.
KPB said…
So, what, all children driving must mean you get to retire soon.

{passes you the tray)
Jen on the Edge said…
So glad that everyone is okay!
Duyvken said…
Never a dull moment chez BB.
Good luck with the driving! J, who is 5, talk about when he is going to his licence ALL THE TIME.
Badger said…
Youngest DOES look just like that in my mind. And he always will.

And hello, Oldest knows EVERYONE. Even taking YOU out of the equation, I feel I am never more than 4 degrees of separation away from Oldest. Which is kind of swell.

A dog named Zoloft. Snort! This has opened up entire CHAPTERS of possible pet names for that stupid dog everyone in the family except me wants to get this summer. (I know. We're not talking about it.)
Crazy Mom! said…
Thank heavens you didn't REALLY need the fire department. Speaking as one who has dealt with said department for its named purpose on more than one occassion in my life, it's not fun. Mostly the aftermath is NOT FUN.

Larry knows all the fire rescue folks too - sounds like old home week in yer undies.
Jennifer said…
Well I'm certainly glad you are all okay and not poisoned. I've heard of so many of those alarms going off when there was no real danger. Time to get a few different ones?
Anonymous said…
So I'll tell you the one thing that I could only focus on: "and two minutes later a nice policeman, the Fire Chief and five underage firefighters were in my living room".
See, darling, if one calls the fire department here, one needs to wait al least (AT LEAST) one hour to be able to see someone, subject if anyone is available in the closest fire department which is abprox 45 minutes away from here, otherwise ...
Isn't this town lovely???
I am happy it was nothing serious that woke you up and it's good to have a light sleep and FD close to home!
Suse said…
I can't believe no on else heard the alarm! Relieved indeed that you're all still alive!

ps. here we say off like a bride's nightie which is more risque than your version I suppose.
Thank you for starting my weekend with a smile on my face. I snorted at the thought of Middle photographing the high school reunion in your living room.

I'm glad it wasn't really carbon monoxide in your nest.
RW said…
I too, am very glad it was just an alarm malfunction. And yes, our youngest ones are growing up. Mine towers above me.
polli said…
A dog named Zoloft. I think I love your friend, too. Glad you survived, and now I feel the need to check our monitors.

Off like a prom dress...