|Why my family should be luddites
||[Nov. 3rd, 2004|10:50 pm]
After our break-in, Husband had an alarm system put in. Every door and window in our house is now wired. I have my suspicions about this setup; I'm not overly fond of electrical current in the first place and our house is already a maze of wires. In fact, I suspect that the labyrinth of wiring behind the sheetrock is the only thing holding our house together.
Nevertheless, wired we are. A point not lost on us this morning when Husband opened the back door to go to the utility room without first turning off the alarm.
Our alarm is really loud.
The monitoring company was very nice about it; Husband told them the Secret Password and all was well.
I was going to wear my black pants to work this morning. Well, technically I was going to wear a skirt, but my last pair of hose got a run in them and I refuse to go barelegged to work. I know, I know...humor me. It's a middle-aged thing. Anyway, I was going to wear my black pants, which needed ironing, so I turned on the iron (which resides in The Boy's room) and went to my closet, where I remembered my gray slacks, which are not only fittingly wintery given our recent and sudden drop in temperature, but happily wrinkle-free, as they have been hanging in my closet since I retrieved them from the cleaners back in July.
I know what you're thinking. Winter pants. Dry cleaners. July. "But but but" you're thinking, "Doesn't it get hot there in May?" The answer is no, it gets hot here in April. But I know where you're headed with this line of questioning. The answer to that is, the back seat of my car. For three months. Along with all the rest of my winter drycleaning.
Anywho, I opted for the gray slacks in honor of the temperature finally dropping below 80. When I wear my black pants,I have to wear my clunky black shoes with heels. I should point out that "heels" in context of my particular footwear means "not flats", due to what my podiatrist delicately referred to as the "unusual architecture" of my feet. So when I changed pants plans, I had to change shoe plans, because when I wear the gray slacks I have to wear my flats.
I couldn't find my flats. I looked everywhere. Everywhere except where they were, that is, which turned out to be in the living room under the sofa, which is someplace I never even go with shoes on and certainly never go to take shoes off.
Which reminds me of a joke. "Why do you always find things the last place you look?" "Because when you find them, you stop looking." OK, so I never said it was a funny joke. Anyway, now running late due to the Great Shoe Search, I scurried out to the car and was on my merry way. And as I pulled into the parking garage at work an hour later, it suddenly occurred to me that I had left the iron on. Admit it, you forgot about the iron too, didn't you? See how easy it is to get distracted?
Now, this is the second time I have done this in the past month. And for the second time, I called my mom and asked her if she could stop by the house and turn it off. And of course she said yes, because she's the coolest mom in the universe.
Thirty minutes later, I get a call from the alarm monitoring company, saying the front door alarm has been triggered and someone claiming to be my parent is unable to find the control panel to turn it off. Luckily my mom remembered the Secret Password so they called me instead of the police. I called my mom to see what was up and apparently she wasn't aware that the control panel has a cover you can flip down to reveal the keypad. Normally we just leave it open but Husband had shut it when he left the house. This confused my mother, who thought we had changed out the old touchpad control panel to something that apparently works via telepathy.
So pretty much everyone in my family is appliance challenged in one way or another. I don't think we're high-tech enough to have an alarm system, or pretty much any electrical appliance.
On the bright side, when I got home today I had a new iron waiting for me. The kind with an automatic shut off.