Red Alert

No one likes when the phone rings at 2:30am. It is probably worse when you have teenagers.

Ring!!! Ring!!

Me, sitting bolt upright: Hoos! Get the phone!
Hoos, sitting upright, looking confused: What is that? Where? What?
Me: GET THE PHONE! ON YOUR NIGHTSTAND.

Hoos, FINALLY getting the phone: Hello? Yes? Yes. It is?
Me, realizing, thankfully, that it is not the worst kind of call to get at that time, but not the best kind either (a wrong number): Yes! Do you hear that ringing? The alarm?!

Hoos, handing me the phone: Talk to the alarm company while I check it out.
Me: Hi. Yes, it is raining here...

the phone cuts out

Me, not thinking happy thoughts, getting out of bed and walking down the stairs to another phone: The phone died.

Hoos, calling up from the basement: IS THAT YOU ON THE STAIRS?!
Me: YES! The phone died.
Hoos: It's nothing. I don't see anything.
Me: Okay, good, maybe because of the rain...

Ring! Ring! {it doesn't sound quite as loud this time around - thank goodness!}

Alarm Lady: I was just about to say that the phone would die when he shut off the alarm. Is everything okay?
Me: Yes, thank you.
Hoos: You scared me when I heard the stairs. The footsteps sounded really heavy...sorry...but they did.

MAYBE BECAUSE I WAS IN A DEAD SLEEP TWO MINUTES BEFORE?!

As I crawl back up to bed, I know the Hoos is wired. An hour later I am almost comfortable and sleeping again. Just in time for LP to arrive without an explanation, but with a need for assistance returning to bed.

I fell back into a solid sleep just in time for my alarm clock to go off.

What a night.