Terri Kaiser

Those of you that know me had to know there would be a sequel to my earlier article on Nincompoopery. Yes, I've done it again.

My husband was out of town and I had a wedding shower to attend. He asked me if I would run to the dump either before or after the shower. Well, as usual, I was running late but I thought I could still get to the dump on my way to the shower. That was not to be. I backed the car out of the garage, opened the back hatch on the car, and ran, and I mean ran, to the porch where the garbage was. It was locked and the house was already locked up. Dang!

I really didn't have a minute to spare anyway, so I thought, 'I'll get it later,' jumped back in the car and took off. I'm sure you know where I'm going with this. Yep, the hatch was still open. First thought — did the neighbors see?

And that's not all. The office I work at underwent an extensive remodel. Garrett, the contractor, is a very talented craftsman and brings a solid sense of humor with him every time he comes to work.

Well, I was alone at the office, sitting at my desk working my fingers to the bone (smiley face) when an alarm goes off. Now this wasn't a wimpy alarm by any means, it was loud enough to make me nearly fall out of my chair, and the floor under my chair was vibrating something fierce. What in the world!? It lasted about a minute, during which I sat stone-still wondering if the world was coming to an end.

Then I remembered, Garrett had been in the office the day before to work on the heating system and install new smoke and CO2 alarms. That must be it! The office was filling with deadly gas and I was probably going to die, or be hospitalized at the very least.

I bolted out of my chair and fairly flew down the basement steps. (Yes, that's it, Terri, run right toward the trouble, rather than away. Good job!) Anyway, whichever alarm was going off, was directly under my chair and strong enough to vibrate the floor. I went to the part of the basement that correlated with my seat up above, but found no alarm near enough, and the ones that were down there showed no signs of having gone off. I stuck my nose in where the furnace is and smelled a tiny whiff of gas, I think.

So, I ran back upstairs and opened all of the windows on the west side of the building and because it was a bitterly cold day, I closed off the east side of the building where the thermostat is. That was pretty smart of me, huh? I think it was raining ice pellets that day and they were bouncing off the window screens and the temp in the room dropped about a hundred degrees.

And I stood there. Now what? Call the fire department? Call 9-1-1? Was I feeling the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning yet? I focused on my vision, yes, it was maybe a little fuzzy. I did feel a slight headache coming on. Oh Lord, yes, this was bad. So, I called Garrett.

I frantically told him what had happened and he said, “Teerrrii,” in a long drawl, “where's your phone?”

“My phone? Why?'”

“Where is it,” he asked.

“In my hand.” I really wanted to add a big “Duh!”

“Where was it before that?”

“In my purse on the floor.”

“Did you get an Amber Alert? Cuz I did.”

“Oh.”

(Copyright © 2019 APG Media)

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