I once saw a movie with Jim Carey where he claimed to be able to make the most annoying sound in the world. He made this throaty, deep, seemingly unending squeal like whine. When I heard this I wholeheartedly agreed it was the most annoying sound on earth. Oh, foolish woman. I didn’t have kids at that point.
This afternoon when I returned home after a marathon of stores and errands with all three unwilling kids in tow carrying a lightly sleeping eight month old with a roaring double ear infection I heard a very abrasive chirp. Oh dear God, No. NO. I just know its not time for the smoke alarm batteries to be changed. Not when Ainsley is sleeping. Not when the boys are are convinced they may die of starvation if I don’t set a prepared lunch in front of them in the next seven seconds. Not when I’ve needed to pee for an hour and forty five minutes but held it because the thought of peeing an a crowded stall with a five and three year old staring at me while I balance an eight month old on my lap makes me want to simultaneously vomit and urinate.
CHIRP.
And then Ainsley wakes up, screaming because she wants to nurse, she wants her bed, she wants Motrin, her ears hurt and what the HELL is that noise? Then Connor and Max realize there is a noise, a very loud, very irritating and totally awesome to mimic. So the boys turn up their volume and begin Chirping while I am desperately trying to shove my breast in my screaming daughter’s mouth so she’ll fall asleep. Now I have a stationary Chirp in the hall outside Ainsley’s room, and two mobile Chirpers milling around the house chirping, giggling, running into walls and kicking each other. For whatever reason they felt the addition of physical violence really enhanced the effects of the chirp. Once I convinced Ainsley that she really did want to nurse and that her bed really was the best place for her and that I really was going to leave her in there so she might as well simmer down and hush up, I got the broom so I could beat one of the Chirpers to a bloody pulp. No, not the kids, that one that runs on batteries. I wish the boys ran on batteries so I could take the damn things out and get ten solid minutes of peace.
Even now, although I’ve killed the smoke detector and its no longer capable of making that evil noise, the boys have not forgotten what they learned. They learned to emit what I have discovered to be the REAL most annoying sound on earth. Its your kids copying the smoke alarm battery notification alert. And unlike a smoke alarm you can’t shut your kids up with a broom. Or you can, its just not moral or legal.