The Beep is Coming from Inside the House!
When it comes to home repair, don’t come to me.
Back when I was married, and something big needed to be done around my house, I’d call my friend Dave. Dave would arrive with an SUV filled with neatly boxed tools, and I would proceed to follow him around the house or yard, handing over tools or drink, whichever was needed.
Every year, I receive notification for my townhouse there will be an inspection of smoke detectors. They need to be sure they are all in working order. Someone shows up, pushes each detector button, hears the screech, and moves on.
This year, however, when the inspector showed up and performed his routine, he added, “You need to change the hard wired smoke detectors with wired detectors with ten-year battery back up” and left.
What? You need me to do something? With wires?
Of course, I dread this, and drag my feet on changing of the three wired detectors. But, as usual, because I over think everything, my dread was replaced with, when completed, “wow, that was easy”.
Now, I just need to wait for the inspectors to return to judge my work. I am confident that I will pass with flying colors.
That is, until the other day, when I heard…
...beep.
How is this possible? All new smoke detectors, all new batteries – they are hard wired so they never die.
And yet – beep.
Damn.
The search begins.
Every few minutes I hear beep. So, I start at the top – two bedrooms on the second floor, three smoke detectors and then I hear beep downstairs; its not them.
One smoke detector at the bottom of the stairs on the first floor – hear beep – its not that one.
In the basement, three detectors, I close the door behind me and wait.
...beep.
The sound is on the other side of the door; its not them.
That’s all the detectors, so need to go back to square one.
One by one, I start to remove batteries, but that periodic beep still filled the air.
Up and down the stairs at least five times (should have worn my Fit bit). Basement, second floor, first floor and back again, taunted by the elusive beep.
Narrowed down to the first floor and stand, a statue in my living room, until beep. It’s close. On the next beep I crouch down, but there are no smoke detectors on the floor. With each beep I step forward, and lower, to the floor until the sound coming from – the couch?
The next beep revealed my prey…
...one of the replaced smoke detectors I put in a plastic bag and dropped down on the floor near the back of my couch that I forget to throw away - it’s battery, still installed, was dying.
After a good laugh, I took the battery out of the detector and placed it on my desk.
...beep
What the f’?
The dead smoke detector, battery on the other side of the desk, just beeped at me.
Grabbed the zombie detector and went into the bathroom, closed the door just to be sure that it was indeed the culprit...
...beep
Walked outside to the dumpster, smoke detector in hand, and waited for…
...beep
Tossed it in the dumpster, and went back into my house.
Walked into my living room, and was shocked to see that damned smoke detector was back on my desk!
(Kidding, no it wasn’t, but everything else up to that last sentence is true).
