alarm

So. This morning. A few minutes before 8am (and before my alarm was to go off, telling me to wake up), I get a call from my friend, Kristi M., who lives across the street from my parents. Why are you calling me so early? "Um... I think your parents' house alarm is going off. It has been going off for a while. We don't have a way to reach them, so I called you". Ugh. Okay. I call my mom. I tell her about the alarm. She already knows via another neighbor. Okay. Her voice is a little off. She then tells me, "your dad is working from home today" (why wouldn't he have turned it off if he is working from home? BIG RED FLAG GOES OFF IN MY BRAIN), followed by, "and I have tried calling him a dozen times. No answer" (EVEN BIGGER RED FLAG). Before responding, I fly out of bed and grab the nearest flip flops. I ask if I should go over to check it out (already knowing that was my plan before hearing her answer). "Give it ten more minutes and if he hasn't called back, then maybe check it out" (she works in Phoenix, therefore no where NEAR home. And I am not waiting ten minutes). I fly into the boys' room, grab both of them, run down the stairs, and basically throw them in the car. Three minutes. It takes three minutes to get my parents' house (if all the lights are green... and maybe if I am speeding). I call Kristi back to let her know I am on my way. I also tell her my dad is working from home and he is not answering his phone. She puts me on the phone with her father-in-law (who has been my parents'-and my-neighbor for over a decade). I tell him the code to get into the garage. I hear the alarm getting louder and louder as he approaches the house. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel so hard, driving as fast as the law allows to get to my parents' house. I am terrified of what I will find when I get there and get into the house. Is my dad injured? Unconscious? DEAD? Through the scream of the alarm, I hear Merk tell me that he opened the garage. "There are no cars here". I make him repeat it, just to be sure. No cars. My dad is not here. My dad is not dead. Well, my dad is not dead here. He ALWAYS answers his phone, ALWAYS. My mom and I keep trying to contact him with no luck. I try turning the alarm off via the garage alarm panel. Nothing. I go inside to the main frame. Try. Try again. Try a third time. Nothing. Finally, I grab the dog's leash to at least get the poor dog out of the house and away from the wailing alarm. Merk messes with the alarm's main frame, but to no avail. Once outside and somewhat away from the noise of the alarm, I call my mom. Still no word from dad. She then lets me know that the alarm repair man is suppose to come at 10am to fix the alarm (pre-scheduled repair). You're telling me. They thought it was a dead battery. Apparently not. Finally, after killing power to the entire house (twice) and basically ripping the alarm's power source from the wall, the noise stops. Adrenaline is coursing through me. I go across the street to get my babies (Kristi had been watching them throughout the chaos). Sit down. Breathe. Ah. I call Robert to explain my morning. My dad calls. He was at the dentist. Forgot his phone in the car. I bet he got an earful from my mom before calling me. Kinda don't blame her. He (unknowingly) scared the crap out of all of us. Interesting morning? I'd say so.