Amen

The smoke detectors in our apartment are on the fritz. They are powered electrically but also have a back-up battery. The one in my son’s room decides every night around 3am that it needs a new battery and starts that crazy annoying beep every 26 seconds. (I can’t sleep, ever, and thought perhaps counting seconds would help me sleep. After FOUR HOURS of counting, I found the average time to be 26 seconds. Don’t you envy me now?) The Kraken thankfully has the ability to sleep through most of the beeping. Momma however is annoyed and therefore something must be done. And by ‘something must be done’ I mean my husband better fix it now.

My husband loves me or just wants to keep my inner nag kept hidden away and so promptly climbed upon a rickety bar stool to replace the angry battery. The Kraken decided to help by circling the stool stating over and over, “Keep your balance, daddy. Keep your balance.”

The ceilings in our apartment are quite tall, which is advantageous if you don’t want to feel like you live in a cave as many apartments can feel, but not so wonderful when messing with a smoke detector. After a few minutes of standing fully outstretched, my husband began to get a bit grumpy about the height of the stool. My son, always a helpful lad pointed out, “That’s only option. No have taller stool bench.” Huh. You are right son, we don't have anything taller. When did you take inventory of our furniture? And where did you learn the word option?

By this point, with all the beeping and testing of the detector, my little Rosie is wailing. At first I didn’t really notice. (Yeah, I know. What an awesome mommy. Her nighttime screaming is nothing new. She is, after all, The Siren.) The Kraken however, is quite sensitive to his baby sister’s pleas. He thus decided his role of helper needed a bit of a boost. He skipped into the living room, where I had retreated, folded his hands and said, “Dear Jesus, please help daddy no fall off stool bench. Please stop Rosie crying.” Then he looked at me with that precious dimpled grin, “That’s all momma.” I told him the best way to end a prayer was to simpy say, Amen. Delighted he replied, “Oh! Okay. That’s a good idea. Amen.”

Rosie did eventually stop crying and daddy didn’t fall of the stool, but now two more smoke detectors are beeping. It’s a darn good thing I can’t sleep anyway or I would be thoroughly peeved. At least I can lay awake remembering that little Cherub face praying to Jesus for his sister and daddy. Thank you, Jesus for the Kraken. Amen.