What did they see?

Yesterday morning we were rudely awakened at 3:30 am by a loud, persistent honking noise.

"What's that?" asked Ron sleepily.

"The carbon monoxide detector. We've got to get up and call 911," I replied. I tucked our dog under one arm and hurried to the study where I grabbed the phone and punched in the number. The dispatcher told us to keep the doors and windows closed as the firefighters would be testing the air with sensors.

Ron was simultaneously getting dressed and trying to silence the alarm. I thought putting some clothes on might be a good idea so I put our dog down on the bed and slipped into sweatpants and t-shirt. Then I told Ron to come outside and wait for help to arrive.

I went out into the warm night with my furbaby firmly tucked under my arm and listened. The fire station is only a couple of blocks away so I knew they wouldn't be long. Ron still hadn't exited so when I heard the rumble of a large vehicle I called to him to hurry up, they were almost here.

Then suddenly I remembered our collection of spanking toys displayed on the wall. Where would they actually go with their sensors? Was Ron trying to hide them at the risk of his safety? Ron finally appeared in the doorway with the dog's leash, just in case. I decided not to mention the toys to him. The firefighters had probably seen it all before, and it might make a good story for them to tell back at the station.

The truck pulled up outside our house and three men dressed in full firefighting gear came up the drive.

"Well, you're up," one of them cheerfully greeted us. The three trooped inside and we could hear the persistent honks of the detector. After a few minutes the lead man came out and told us their sensors had not detected any lethal gas or CO.

"Have you done any laundry lately? The house smells like fabric softener or Febreeze," he asked. Then I realized what the noticeable odour was. Ron had spray painted a piece of furniture the previous afternoon, and because of the weather, he had done it in the basement beside the furnace. I told the firefighter that, and he said that the paint odour had been picked up by the air conditioner and circulated through the house and finally set off the alarm. He noticed that the CO detector was nearly at its expiry date, and that they often go wonky before they expire. It couldn't be reset, so we promised to buy a new one that day.

We thanked the men and they departed. We checked the house as we turned off the lights, and figured they had only been in the basement, and maybe in the upstairs hall.

All's well that ends well. Our new CO detector is in position, the painting project is out in the garden shed, and our secret is safe.