How Alarming

At 1:30 this morning our house alarm went off, and if there had been an actual bad guy in the house, I would have rushed directly into his arms, so intent was I on silencing that piercing noise. I mean really. Our bedroom is mere steps from the kitchen, back door, and alarm control box thingy, and when my conscious memory of last night begins, I was already a few steps out of the bed and the phone was ringing and all I was thinking was STOP THAT NOISE. I turned the kitchen light on and noted that the kitchen door was OPEN a couple of inches, and still I was thinking SHUT UP, SHUT UP, how can I make this thing shut up. I closed and locked the door, maybe locking a bad guy inside with us, for all I knew. Brian had not arisen from the bed, where apparently he was having a chat with the alarm people and giving them the secret code word without bothering to ascertain that everything was actually okay. Although everything was, I guess.

It worried me, though. I had been in bed, but still awake, when Bliss came home at 11:25. I heard her turn off the alarm after her own entry and then reset it for the night. Then I guess I fell asleep while she was rattling around the kitchen fixing a snack. But the thing is, the door has to be shut for you to reset the alarm, so how did it come to be open two hours later? Brian theorizes that Bliss didn't shut it completely (much less lock it) and that our cat, who's always trying to make a break for it, worked on it bit by bit until he finally got it open. Pretty good theory, except that if the cat did painstakingly work until he got the door open, why was he still inside the house?

I had another alarm scare years ago that went like this: I was hugely pregnant with Bliss, and my then-husband worked at night, hence the whole decision to get an alarm. So on the evening after we got it installed, there I sat on the sofa, nervous, pregnant and alone, when suddenly a piercing BEEP, BEEP, BEEP caused me to leap up and then just stand there, paralyzed with fear, and wait for the intruder to appear. When he never did, I eventually figured out that the alarm company man (who had unplugged various appliances during the installation process) must have accidentally hit the button on big loud alarm clock in my kitchen, setting it to go off several hours later.

These incidents together suggest to me that the only thing an alarm is good for is to give me a few seconds' notice that I'm about to be murdered. Seriously, what we should have done last night was jump up and lock the bedroom doors, get the gun and wait for the cops to show up. Instead, I go running into the kitchen to silence the alarm so as to be killed more quietly. And to think I pay twenty-seven bucks a month for this protection.