Things that Go Beep, Eek, and Shriek in the Night and Day

”It” started to beep mid-day Tuesday. Handsome Hubby first heard the sound after the carpet cleaners left. It wasn’t super loud, but it was shrill. And it was constant.

The noise was more than a beep. More of a high-pitched eek. A shriek. A cross between chalk grating across a blackboard and the soul-crushing cry of a three-year-old who has just had a lollipop taken away.

The sound penetrated your skull, shattered your concentration, and frayed your nerves beyond tolerance.

It seemed to emanate from the bathroom ceiling beside HH’s office. Even with the bathroom and office doors closed, the beep, beep, eek, eek shriek could be heard, piercing your ears, bones, and psyche.

HH was beside himself. He pounded up the stairs, waving his arms, distraught and distracted. “I cannot figure it out. See if you can, please, please, PLEASE.”

I, of course, had already looked, but I tried again. After staring at the bathroom ceiling for 17.2 seconds, I shook my head and fled.

Things that Go Beep, Eek, and Shriek

I have nerve damage in my right ear from a childhood ear infection and the pitch of the banshee-toned beeping sent my mangled internal acoustics into warp overdrive.

HH called an electrician. We waited, hiding out upstairs until the next day for his arrival.

Two minutes after our savior/electrician entered the house, HH shot up the stairs with an alarming update. He was again gesturing wildly, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“What?” I said, fearing that I had lost my hearing from the non-stop acoustical assault. Then, I remembered! I was wearing noise-canceling headphones.

“You won’t believe this,” HH repeated. “The sound is moving. It’s in the family room now.”

I didn’t know what was more alarming — the thought of an unidentified sound that was moving or the flushed look on HH’s face.

Then, to my profound annoyance and complete disbelief, HH announced, “OK, gotta go. I’m off to the gym. The electrician’s gonna figure it out. He’s heading into our bedroom to check the panel box and the entire electrical system. Call  if you need me.”

Huh? Call if I need you. Duh!

And so, my “hero” fled the scene, and now, in addition to the beeping — which was louder and closer to the main floor, the lights to the entire house were going on and off, the alarm system was being activated REPEATEDLY, and I was alternately contemplating divorce and matrimonial homicide.

Gimme a Break!

One hour later, the electrician packed up his toolbox.

“I cannot figure it out. You should call your plumber. I think this relates to the sump pump flood you had two weeks ago. Maybe a moisture sensor is going off. I’ll give you a break on my bill. Sorry, lady.”

That may not be a 100% accurate quote because, after all, I could barely hear him over the beeping.

And as for that “break” on the bill, thanks a lot! I wrote a check for $335.43. Beep that, buddy!

That night, my gym-refreshed husband wandered around downstairs. After 40 minutes, he reappeared laughing. I assumed he had officially lost his mind.

As he came closer the beeping reached new, louder levels.

“Um,” he said shamefacedly. “I figured out the source of the problem. It’s here.”

The Thing that Goes Beep, Eek, and Shrieks

And with that, he pointed inside the bathroom trash can to a plastic flood detector which was flashing and beeping.

It seems when the carpet installers came, one of them kicked the trash can where the old flood detector was, waiting to be thrown out. That set the device off, triggering the non-stop aural attack.

The trash can, in turn, acted like a funnel and projected the sound up. That’s why the wayward noise seemed to be coming from the ceiling.

As for the sound “moving,” that happened when the electrician moved the trash can out of the bathroom into the hall/family room to make space for his ladder so he could reach the bathroom ceiling fan.

HH finally figured out where the sound was coming from after he downloaded a sound detector app onto his phone and like that old game of “hot, hot, cold, cold,” the app guided him to the source of the infernal beeping.

So, there you have! Good times … or whatever. Life is NEVER dull in our house.

Footnote: Initially, HH made me swear I would never tell anybody about his $335.43 bout with domestic madness, but then he relented and said I could share it with you all. He did ask that you, in turn, PROMISE not to tell anybody else — a-hum!