A Special Edition—The Carbon Monoxide Detector or Is It?

Winter is sprinting in with the wind. In the last few weeks we enjoyed a few wind storms, torrential rain, freezing fog, and a taste of the holidays.

The storm sent us a present in the form of a power surge. It took out the DVD player—yes, we’re still using DVDs—and with each power dip, our carbon monoxide detector-turned-musician played the error tune.

I can name that tune in two notes. High C.

I disconnected the detector. My better half performed the assist, a slam dunk into the trash can.

Silence. Beautiful silence.

Do you think we could remember to purchase a new one?

One night last week while driving home from work, my husband and I decided to replace the DVD player. We changed our route home.

At the entrance to the Target parking lot, my better half threw a pop quiz. “What have we been discussing for the last few weeks and forgetting?”

I didn’t study for the quiz. Errrrrrr. Brain freeze. Oh wait it’s coming to me. “A, a, a monoxide detector”. I could not remember the word carbon.

Whether it was the Christmas carols blasting from the car radio, being tired after working all day, or selective hearing, my husband said, “Not an obnoxious detector, with our behavior it would go off every two seconds.”

Hmmmmm. I resemble that comment.

After the laughter died, I wrote a note so we couldn’t forget once we got inside and our senses overloaded with the holiday sales.

Then the sky opened up and the mud from the puddles ran off our car in streaks and fellow shoppers dashed for the safety of the store entrance.

Take that mere humans.

We made it out of Target with only one extra item. Phew.

The clouds must have noticed, because the drizzle turned back into down pour.

Really creepy.

Really creepy.

And I looked up in time to catch this on my “eye”-phone. The clouds really were watching. They’re using the obnoxious detector.

Until next week.

Ciao,

Fannie

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About Fannie Cranium

Writing since she could first hold a pen, Tracy Perkins formed her alter ego, "Fannie Cranium" at the suggestion of her husband. Tracy understands smiling makes people wonder what she’s been up to.
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