6am... wailing... constant, ear piercing wailing... Jump out of bed. Check all the rooms. No fire. Now what? omg... seriously... make it stop. Maeve is sleeping through it. Thank goodness, she's sleeping through it. How can she sleep through it? Does she have hearing problems? Okay, good. She's awake. She can hear. Now she's crying. I wish she was sleeping through it.
Call your friends, knowing they can't help, but at least they'll know you're in misery. Can't find the manual for the fire system. Pull down one of the alarms. Take out the battery. Damn, its wired in. Still wailing. I'm deaf now. I don't know? Do you call the non-emergency police number? Yes, you do -- and they patch you through to the fire station -- they send out some fire fighters responding to a 911 call (I didn't call 911! oh hell...) But, yay, I have fire fighters in my house. Of course. I look like crap, Maeve has yellow snot oozing from her nose that she's smearing all over her face, and my house is mess. I don't think I'm making the impression I want... oh wait. Right. Fire alarm. Please make the noise stop. They tell me that I need the secret code to punch in the alarm box. I don't have it hooked up to an alarm system gentlemen... but, apparently there is a secret code. They can't help me. Thanks anyway. Then my neighbor comes over and tries to help... and, still the alarms wail. Give in to the noise. Make blueberry pancakes and eat breakfast.
Eventually, Tom, the builder, shows up with his ladder. Love the vaulted ceilings until you need to access them. We managed to deactivate all the alarm boxes -- the culprit that activated all alarms in the house was in my room. 3 hours of wailing and finally there is silence. Oh, how I love the sound of silence... reminds me of a song.
On a positive note... we changed all the batteries in the alarms so I don't have to do that for another year...