Things That Go Beep In The Night
3:05 am. Beep beep.
The beeping jolted me awake. What the hell was it? It sounded vaguely like the noise my cell phone makes when it's on its last battery legs, but I turned it off last night.
Beep beep.
Must be K's, I figured. We have the same phone. We had different phones, but then she decided it would be fun if we got the same phone so we could accidentally grab the wrong one when leaving the house in the morning. I jumped up and down, flashed the lights 10 times, dumped cold water on her head and finally got her to half-open one eye. "Where's your cell phone?" I asked. She muttered back a very lengthy reply about how it was in her purse, in her backpack, 2 rooms away and that there's no way that 1) it could be out of batteries since she charged it at work and 2) there's no way I could hear it.
Beep beep.
I stumbled into the living room and found her backpack. Her phone was in there, powered on, fully charged, and not chirping.
Beep beep.
I stumbled into the second bedroom/my office/baseball shrine/nursery for our invisible child, thinking it might be the computer going bonkers. It could have been some kind of primal DOS beep indicating that the computer was about to melt down, but the PC was fine.
Beep beep.
I went back in the bedroom, ready to blast off through the 13 foot ceiling with sheer rage at the noise that wouldn't stop being noisy. Then I found it. On my nightstand.
The damned cordless phone was telling me in what it thought to be a nice pleasant soothing sound that it really needed to go in the charger. It almost went out the window.
3:05 am. Beep beep.
The beeping jolted me awake. What the hell was it? It sounded vaguely like the noise my cell phone makes when it's on its last battery legs, but I turned it off last night.
Beep beep.
Must be K's, I figured. We have the same phone. We had different phones, but then she decided it would be fun if we got the same phone so we could accidentally grab the wrong one when leaving the house in the morning. I jumped up and down, flashed the lights 10 times, dumped cold water on her head and finally got her to half-open one eye. "Where's your cell phone?" I asked. She muttered back a very lengthy reply about how it was in her purse, in her backpack, 2 rooms away and that there's no way that 1) it could be out of batteries since she charged it at work and 2) there's no way I could hear it.
Beep beep.
I stumbled into the living room and found her backpack. Her phone was in there, powered on, fully charged, and not chirping.
Beep beep.
I stumbled into the second bedroom/my office/baseball shrine/nursery for our invisible child, thinking it might be the computer going bonkers. It could have been some kind of primal DOS beep indicating that the computer was about to melt down, but the PC was fine.
Beep beep.
I went back in the bedroom, ready to blast off through the 13 foot ceiling with sheer rage at the noise that wouldn't stop being noisy. Then I found it. On my nightstand.
The damned cordless phone was telling me in what it thought to be a nice pleasant soothing sound that it really needed to go in the charger. It almost went out the window.
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