Mostly True Memoirs
One of the fire alarms was chirping.
We couldn’t figure out which one.
The noise was driving us crazy.
We finally found it.
It was the one in the Grown Son’s room.
He was still asleep in the middle of the morning.
Also, his room is a pigsty.
Bob was cursing and shouting because he couldn’t set up the ladder due to the mess on the floor.
The Grown Son was cursing and shouting because we were disturbing his sleep.
Then Bob couldn’t find our battery stash, so he cursed and shouted some more.
Finally, the problem was resolved.
The battery got changed, the ladder got put away, and the house was filled with blissful silence.
The Grown Son, with much contemptuous eye rolling and a bit of embittered muttering, started a load of laundry.
Yay, two problems solved for the price of one.