Beep.
"I'm sorry sir, you can't sleep here - you're going to have to move", the polite person says to me. Who were they again...a nurse? A hotel clerk?
Beep.
Comprehension evades me. I begin to regain my footing, when suddenly the Countdown Timer of Doom sounds. The floor falls out from beneath us, rushing once again to certain doom.
Beep.
...crap. I had been interspersing some real-world beeping into my dreams for some time now. Reality begins to set in.
A battery in a smoke detector has chosen 5 AM as the perfect time to die. I stealthily hop out of bed. If I can change it quickly, I can keep it from waking up the rest of the family for the day. I creep downstairs and grab a new battery. A minute later, I find the offending, beeping detector, swap out its battery, and wait to confirm the chirping stops. Nobody is watching, but it doesn't matter - I have already assumed the official Hero Dad pose.
Beep.
And so begins the first of a very long line of troubleshooting steps, in which I was roundly outsmarted by a piece of plastic.
Our lovely smoke detectors are interlinked. When you pull the battery on one, others get a red light, and sometimes chirp. It was no surprise then, when I pulled the battery from our failing smoke detector, that I hear a chirp from the other detectors. So I go around and push each one's button, figuring THAT will be the end of it.
Beep.
While downstairs I hear the same, original detector chirping again, this time with a new battery.
Attempt 3 - the harder reset. I hold the button long enough for it to sound, and for the related alarms to also sound. We are now blaring our smoke detectors, about 4 blares per attempt, at 515 AM.
This does not work, so we try this for each of the other 5 detectors. Our neighbors must love us at this point.
Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP!
Attempt 4 - Get a third battery. I am paranoid enough at this point to tongue test the batteries. Ow. They were all fresh - the 3rd battery effects no change.
At this point, the family is up, and thought streams are running at 50%+ vulgarity. I have googled our specific smoke detector, and am narrowing down between defective unit, or maybe a spider or bug got into the detector itself.
Beep.
Attempts 5, 6 - Pull the unit. This proves harder than one would first imagine. Remember, the body is not operating the best at these hours. Now add in a swiveling chair. Finally, the damnable smoke detector is plugged into the wall with a clip interlocked by Hercules himself. A few minutes and close calls later, the smoke detector is in hand. I blow into every crevice I can see. Nope, no creepy crawlies inside. Now to fully drain it, I clear the power from the transistors with a test beep. With that all done, I pull out the metal touch-points for the battery to ensure a good connection.
desperation has set in - I tongue-test all 3 of the batteries again at this point. Choosing the battery which battered my tongue the most, I reinsert it into the detector. Of course by now the other detectors have noticed there is a DETECTOR DOWN, so they are all chirping.
Beep. beep BEEP. Beep.
I re-insert the battery, hook the detector back in, and hope for the best.
Beep!
A few swear words later, I realize I am going to need to try to clear all the other detectors again.
Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP! Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEP!
We are nearing 6 AM. The final detector has been reset. All troubleshooting steps have been executed. Everything has been reset. One minute of waiting to confirm no sound, and rest should be imminent.
Beep.
And with that beep, our journey entered into the zone well-known as Whatever It Takes.
We remove the failed unit from the wall again, a bit more...forcibly this time. A 6 AM trip to the local hardware store is appearing imminent. As we wait to confirm the other units chirps in order to reset them, my wife and I are mystified, as we once again hear it...
Beep!
We both swear it is from the unit we just unplugged from the wall, right by where we are standing. I remove its battery and power drain it to be sure. We stand in each other room to rule out every other detector.
Beep.
We are now both staring in disbelief at a hole in the ceiling with wires hanging down from where a detector once was. Both convinced that somehow, even without a smoke detector plugged in, those wires are chirping at us.
It is then that my wife finally solved our mystery. She looked down to our ankles. Immediately below the smoke detector, plugged into the wall...was a carbon monoxide detector.
We pull the monoxide detector from the wall. Glancing down at it, we see it flashing an error. With a smile on my face, I explain to my wife that the 'b6t error' was in fact a code for a low battery (b6t...bat). One minute and two AA batteries later, and we are ready for test number 7.
And so ends the very long line of troubleshooting steps, in which I was roundly outsmarted by a piece of plastic.
Silence. Sweet, sweet silence. It was in the same second of that magnificent silence that my wife and I glanced at each other. We shared the humiliation of failing to properly identify the failing unit. Repeatedly. For over an hour. But we also kicked that smoke detector's ass, innocence be damned. In the end, we walked out a bit wiser, a bit humbled, and a bit sleepy. Thankful to have restored our home to peaceful quiet, without having to resort to duct tape or sledgehammers.
Someday, when you awake in the middle of the night, confused and cloudy-minded to a beeping...my hope is that some part of your mind will remember this story. It might save you (and your neighbors) a few extra hours of sleep ;-)