At about 5am last night our bedroom fire alarm launched into the most OBNOXIOUS screeching I've ever heard in my life. Seriously, NOT COOL. Yes, I get it, an alarm should be capable of waking me up (check!) but if there actually had been some sort of fire then HELLO! YES! I KNOW! ON FIRE! and generally there is really no need for the god-awful shrieking to continue.
As it happens there was NOT a fire. Also, as it happens, our bedroom ceilings are REALLY FREAKING HIGH. And because boy and I are clearly both mensa candidates, the ONE FECKING LADDER we had we recently gave to my brother in law. My boy's dad has promised to get us a new ladder for Christmas, but being the 21st we were pretty much SOL (Shit Out of Ladder).
After having dragged at least four different chairs into our room and having determined that their seats are all exactly the same height (what is UP with that?!), we realized that no matter the chair, boy was doomed to be 3 feet short of the alarm. Thats when he took a deep breath and looked at me . . .I expected him to say "Lets just sleep in the second bedroom" or "Maybe we won't be able to hear it if we go upstairs?", but no. What he actually said was "I guess you're going to have to get on my shoulders".
I did a quick bit of groggy 5am math and told him that we'd STILL be short a good three feet, to which he replied by looking warily at one of the chairs.
"NO NO NO NO NO! I AM NOT DOING THAT"
And then the shrieky chirping started up again and I changed my mind.
So go ahead and picture if you will: Boy and I in our pajamas at 5am, me on his shoulders clutching his hair for balance, and him gingerly climbing on top of our red damask bench so I can reach the fecking alarm.
That image was your Christmas present. I hope you like it.