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Last night was Bridge Night.  As it’s my only somewhat regular night out of the house, I try my best not to miss it.  I’m not a very good player (too many rules), but I go for the social outlet.  And the beer and wine.  (Except for last night – I was the D.D.)

After a crazy afternoon of running kids around, things started settling down a bit and I was looking forward to getting out.  I got the kids fed, one clean, another jammied, one off to gymnastics and then I was able to put the baby down.  Dan came home, I passed off a few duties and ran out to get Maria and friends (from gymnastics) and fellow bridge player Erin (from her house).  I dropped the girls at their house, dropped Erin off early to the bridge house, took Maria for a milkshake (owed bribe) and headed home.

With three down and two to go, I left Dan and went to pick up another friend.

Finally.  I was out for the night!  I did have my phone, but since the baby doesn’t “need” me anymore at night, I didn’t anticipate any desperate texts from Dan asking me to pack it in early.  (Again).

At one point during the night, I texted Dan to see how things were going.  I didn’t hear back, so I figured it was a good bet he was already asleep.  Then, a little later, I received a text back saying “I’ll tell you about it later.”  Hmmmmm.  Well, the baby must have given poor Dan a little trouble.  Not feeling the least bit guilty, I carried on with my expert bridge playing.

Later, after dropping my friends off, I headed home in the quiet darkness.  Weird, not having a van full of screaming kids.

Feeling rejuvenated, I stepped through my front door and detected something… foreign.  Something wasn’t quite right.  The lights were out.  The house was quiet.  But, there was this odor.  Not bad.  Just… something.  Mixed with some type of cleaner?  I wasn’t sure.

I headed upstairs and checked in on all my little ones.  All were asleep, but one bed was empty.  Maria’s.  That’s fairly unusually, as she doesn’t often leave her bed during the night like the boys tend to do.

I went downstairs, and on the way to my own bedroom, I noticed a plastic bucket on the floor.  Uh-oh.  A quick deduction told me that Maria had gotten sick, Dan had cleaned it and she was now in my bed.

I was a teeny bit right.

I walked over to Dan’s side of the bed and asked him what had gone on in my absence.  He started rambling about fire, dripping water, the baby, Maria getting sick, and pee.

SAY WHAT?!?

I leaned in very close to him and asked him if he was awake, ’cause he sure wasn’t talking like it.  Yes, he told me.  He was definitely awake.  Then Maria chimed in – she was awake, too.  Great.  I asked again for the story and this is what I was told:

Dan was fixing lunches (wow, I know!) and heard a dripping noise in the hallway.  He investigated and discovered water dripping down from the smoke alarm in the ceiling onto the floor.  Weird.  There is no plumbing above that area.  No source of water.  He placed a bucket under the drip and found a step stool.  With Maria watching (no idea why she wasn’t in bed yet), he reached up and pulled down the smoke alarm, which is hard wired.  As he looked, the wires – making contact with the water – started sparking and burning.  Just as he was thinking he’d wake the kids and get everyone outside, it stopped.

Then it started again.

Maria, literally shaking with fear, demanded to leave the house.  Dan put her outside on the back deck, where she promptly threw up her milkshake.

Not sure what to do, he called the non-emergency number for the fire department to get some advice.  Their advice was to come blazing down the street, all lit up, and check on it themselves.

The firemen removed the smoke alarm (which, btw, causes our other one to beep at regular intervals since they’re connected) and checked for hot spots with their super-awesome-special-heat-sensing devices.  Nothing.  But, they did see the moisture in the ceiling and all the men stood around and wondered where it could have come from.

See the black around the bottom? It used to be white like the rest of it.

Dan went upstairs and carefully searched each of the kids’ rooms, as they’re what’s above the smoke alarm.  All the kids were safely tucked in their beds, sound asleep.  Except for Andrew, who woke with the commotion.  Thankfully, our neighbor (unable to miss the fire trucks in the front yard) had asked Dan if he needed help and was able to hand off the baby.

Continuing his search for the leak, Dan found a wet area on the carpet in one of the boys’ rooms.  Little bit on the baseboard, carpet fairly wet.  Right above the smoke alarm downstairs.  How did it get wet?

Pee.  From a child.  From the dog.  Who can say?  But that is the final explanation.

Are you KIDDING ME?!?

No joke, Dan tells me.  He and the firemen all agreed that someone or something peed on the floor upstairs, it soaked through the carpet, through the pad, went down into the floor and dripped through the smoke alarm, causing the wires to short out and catch fire.  Which caused my daughter to puke.  And my baby to cry.  And the other smoke alarm to beep intermittently throughout the night.

I promise you, I am not making this up.  I am as dumbfounded as you are.  I’m literally shaking my head as I type.

Is it really possible?  Can a dog or a child pee that much?  And then it just happens to be right above a smoke alarm?  And causes it to short out and catch fire?  REALLY???