Come on Baby, Light My Fire!

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We’re very safety conscious here.

Not only do we have a regular old smoke detector, we have a super duper one that’s part of the burglar alarm system.

Last night my boy left the door ajar when he took a shower. It’s cold and the water was hot. Steam curled out from the bathroom, right into the smoke detectors (conveniently located just outside the bathroom, where I’m sure the majority of household fires start.)

Piercing, ear-damaging mayhem followed.

I frantically waved a tea towel under the alarms, running back and forth from one to the other. The regular one silenced as soon as the steam dissipated, but the other one continued until I thought to input the code on the keypad by the front door.

Whew–adventure over.

I told my boy off for not shutting the door, poured a glass of wine and tried to calm the dog who was not impressed by recent events.

“Look,” said my boy moments later, nose glued to the living room window. “There’s a fire engine. There must be a fire nearby.”

I explained the false alarm to the nice firefighter who knocked on our front door. He explained that you have to phone the alarm company anytime your smoke detector goes off or they’ll call the fire department to report a fire.

Am I the only one who sometimes feels like I need adult supervision?

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