B. Die In Your Sleep

I woke up to the sound of a dying battery in one of our CO2 monitors. Not knowing which one, I then had the task of searching for the exact one making the noise. That meant, I had to stand upright at 2:45 a.m. and wait a few minutes in the hallway to hear for the direction of the sound; I didn’t want it waking my kids. Originally, I thought it was the one outside my bedroom door so I disconnected the 9-Volt and decided it was time to let out my 60 lb dog who had also been awoken by the beeping. After letting her out to do absolutely nothing- as she stood on the other side of the closed door with a look of disgust, I noticed the living room lamp on.

Once the lamp was turned off, I let the annoyed, deadweight back in and realized she just wanted to come upstairs. Carrying her squirming weight up the flight of steps, I let her quietly into hubby’s boy-cave and went back to my room. It hit me about 3 seconds after- I stepped in shit. Wanting to make sure it was indeed shit- I started hopping towards the direction of my bathroom.

That’s when I heard the beep from the C02 monitor (damn! unplugged the wrong one). Not able to hop downstairs to unplug the now steadily beeping box since I now had the daunting task of removing the flattened shit from the bottom of my dry, cracking feet, I managed to hop with just one drop, to my trashcan (thankfully, newly lined). Scraping my paw fraught with shit against the lined can, the beep kept getting louder and stronger.

Hopping another 20 feet towards my bathroom, I found the lysol wipes and began to wipe in between my toes and through each crevice of dried, decaying skin. Once I used the appropriate 30 + sheets, I then put my foot in hubby’s sink and washed it with scalding hot water and soap.

Next was the horrifying task of finding the step marks and scrubbing the 15 square foot area with more wipes- with now the hallway, bathroom and bedroom lights on. Meanwhile, son is sound asleep and nobody else is bothered by the beeping.

After cleaning the soon-to-be trashed carpet, I carefully retraced my steps with my eyes and found a forgotten area of shit to clean. Why hadn’t I smelled it to begin with you ask? Simple…. it was probably from inhaling the C02 (kidding).

Once downstairs, I threw the trash bags into the garage and then unplugged the actual beeping machine. Keep in mind- we now have two floors without machines for warning us if there is actually something wrong in the air- but at least nobody else woke up from the incessant beeping.

Note to self: Next time you’re dreaming and hearing beeps that incorporate themselves into such dreams- disguising themselves as possible bombs about to detonate, realize you had a good life and keep sleeping.

About Lady in Red

mom of 3
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