Bad Night

You may be wondering why this photo is leading off the blog this week.

Will someone please tell me why the smoke detector NEVER needs a new battery during the day?

Truly, I can only remember one time when that damn thing started chirping during the waking hours.  Last night was right back to the norm -- at 3:37 a.m. it chirped.

Once.

At first chirp I always assume it must be something else and roll over.  Then, about 10 minutes later (after you've gone back to sleep, of course), chirp.  Then for some reason, I ALWAYS think it is something downstairs.  Up, turn off the alarm, turn on the lights -- yikes -- go downstairs, check the fridge doors, the dishwasher, etc.; then back upstairs, turn on alarm, turn off lights, get in bed, then chirp.

Slow realization that it is the smoke detector, I know, but I'll be damned if I don't think that thing throws it's voice to befuddle me even more than I am already in the middle of the night.

So, repeat of the above, find battery -- at least I had a packet of them -- grab step stool, then up to replace battery, repeat steps again, but ain't no way I'm going back to sleep this time.

UGH.  Such a yucky night.

But Greg had a worse night than me last week.  The ten-year-old boy was being removed from his home for extreme neglect and while the caseworker was helping him to gather a few things to take with him, Greg's mother was shouting that she was glad they were taking him.  That she never wanted him anyway. That this was the best day of her life since this B_____ was taking him away to some awful foster home.

Greg was so upset when he arrived at the CPS office that he told his caseworker that he wanted to kill himself.

All I had to do was wake up early in a house full of love.

And find a battery.