I may have mentioned this once or twice before but I love my house.
I bought a new alarm clock yesterday. I don't even want to go into the frustration of having two people wake up with one alarm setting on the clock. Let's just leave it at grrrrrrr. Anyway, I found one with 2 alarm settings and put my old one in the boys' room. They've never had an alarm clock before and they sleep very deeply. It usually takes me 15 minutes of begging, pleading and bribing to get them moving. Not today, though.
I thought it would be a lark to set it and see what happened. I knew that they'd never wake up to music so I went for the awful buzzer. Fast forward to this morning.
I wake as usual at 6:30 and get ready. When 7:00 rolls around, the bathroom door is open and I'm letting the steam out and putting on my war paint for the day. I hear the alarm go off in the boys' room and think how clever I am and how I should have done this ages ago. Then I hear this:
Henry (drowsily): What's that, Elliott?
Elliott: It's the fire alarm, dummy! Oh SHIT! There's a fire in the house! (Remind me to talk to him about the potty mouth)
Elliott jumped from the top bunk, gallantly pulled Henry from the bottom bunk onto the floor and ran into the hallway. He stood there in his undies and socks jumping up and down screaming "FIRE!" at the top of his lungs. His poor eyes were as big as saucers and I think he wet himself a little. It took ages to calm him down and explain about the clock.
Besides having to go over proper fire procedure with the family and the unfortunate cursing issue, I really enjoy this house. We sure have a ball over here.
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