4:30 am

First rule of booking flights with a toddler: there is no "good time" to fly. There are "bad times" and then there are "times you pray for merciful execution," so when you're booking your flight don't worry about choosing a "good schedule."

The best you can hope for is an "I will be drinking upon arrival" and the worst you can pray to avoid is, "I will be pronounced dead upon arrival."

The night before last time Ryan and I flew with the kids, we got in bed early.

Our 10 pm bedtime was good because we had to wake up at 5 for our 7:50 am flight.

Our 10 pm bedtime was GREAT because the fire alarm went off at 3.

get the kids
and the photo albums
why don't we have a go bag
where are my keys
unplug the computer
that's a fuckin mac
we're not leaving fifteen hundy on the desk to fry

Luckily, before we loaded up the car with our children and what would almost surely have been an indefensible assortment of random household items chosen in a blind panic, we checked the house and sniffed the air. The house was not on fire.

Once we determined that the house was not on fire we decided that the alarm itself was faulty and set about turning it off.

We finally silenced the device with the skillful use of a sword (not a real sword silly) (a solid wood sword) (like a samurai sword) (I believe it's called a bokken) (we keep it in the closet for home defense) (yes we are prepared to defend our home with a fucking sword) (tell me how that's any different from your baseball bat) (except that it's clearly awesomer) and returned to bed.

it has a point at the end
sharp enough to penetrate
blunt enough to wound
but not kill

Then the carbon monoxide alarm went off at 3:02.

We knew it was the carbon monoxide alarm because between siren blasts a mean robot yelled, "CARBON! MONOXIDE! CARBON! MONOXIDE!"

Since the carbon monoxide alarm was connected to the fire alarm that we'd previously silenced by beating it to death with a sword, and since the fire alarm was a false alarm, we assumed that the carbon monoxide alarm was false, too.

And yet... you can't sniff the air or feel doors for carbon monoxide. How can you know that the carbon monoxide alarm is lying?

Ryan went back to bed. I moved out to the couch for a change of scenery.

- - - FAST FORWARD - - -

Ryan and I met in the kitchen at 4:30 am. Actual conversation follows.

Me: Did you sleep?

Ry: I don't know.

Me: Me neither.

Ry: I had just enough time to think about everything that's wrong with my life.

Me: I'm pretty sure I spent the last 90 minutes imagining everyone in our family dying of carbon monoxide poisoning except me. I was next to an open window so I knew I'd survive.

Ry: I catalogued all my personal faults, shortcomings, and failures.

Me: I went to lie down in the boys' room. I said, "Lord, you better take me too."

Ry: I'm pretty sure I would understand if you divorced me.

Me: I chose death with open eyes.

Ry: You want a bagel?

Me: Yeah.

Ry: It's gonna be a long day.

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with Ronit Feinglass Plank


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