Now I Understand About The Taxes

Today I discovered a whole new way to panic.

About ten minutes after Lovebug and I had returned from bringing Ironflower to school/a quick trip to the playground/the drugstore, a began to hear a loud beeping noise. At first I presumed it was Hubby's alarm (Hubby is a nightowl when he can be), except that it kept going after I heard his feet hit the floor. I quickly checked out Lovebug's toys and our cellphones, but I knew the beeping was too loud even for Playskool musical instruments.

Finally, I realized it was our carbon monoxide alarm. And I realized that I had NO IDEA who to call about it. Neither did Hubby. We grabbed Lovebug and left the house. (okay, first I quickly looked on the internet and saw that we were supposed to get out of the house and call 911)

So we got into the car and called 911.

Within ten minutes, two cop cars, a detective car and two fire trucks showed up at our house. As I chatted with all of the men serving and protecting my family, I flashed back to the first time I had ever called 911.

It was from my little house in KC. The one in the funky urban neighborhood that was surrounded by three sides of nicer neighborhoods and one of a distinctly ghetto-like feel. Anyway, I had called 911 because I'd heard the sounds of a car crash and a gun-shot. (The gun-shot should explain why I did not go out and investigate myself, I hope) Ten minutes after I called, a police car showed up. An officer came to the door and asked why I'd called and I pointed to the smashed car on the corner. There looked to be someone in it. The officer told me to stay in my house and walked cautiously to the car. Then he got into his car.

Fifteen minutes later an ambulance came.

I have no idea what happened. Everyone was gone about forty-five minutes later.

So today, as everything was made clear to me and as we were surrounded by polite men with guns and carbon monoxide readers, I suddenly began to appreciate our exorbitant taxes. They couldn't find anything, so they called the gas company FOR US. The gas company (who also charges even more exorbitant fees than gas companies everywhere) was there within 15 minutes.

The gas man blamed the alarm on the attached garage and me letting the car idle in there for a minute. Apparently this is a bad idea even if the garage door is open and especially if the carbon monoxide detector is near the door. Just in case you are like me and this never once occurred to you (it had occurred to Hubby, but when he saw me in panic mode he apparently just decided to play along).

So now I get the tax thing. It's not about cleanliness or keeping the riffraff out. It's about being served and protected by attractive, polite and competent officers and firefighters. And it just may even be worth it.