Well, no more. Our smoke alarm has cried its last.
The end came one morning a couple of weeks back. Laura, as is her wont, had neglected to close the bathroom door while showering. I was breakfasting on a decidedly non-smoky meal of yogurt and granalo.
And yet, the smoke alarm did scream.
I rushed about, concerned that perhaps a cigarette was even then setting fire to a mattress or pile of paper, yet there was nothing to be found.
At length, I came to the only possible conclusion available: the steam had set it off.
I found a chair and disconnected it from its electrical supply and our home is now far happier than once it was.
