Beat the Clock

If you see me at Home Depot buying a sledge hammer, my husband's alarm clock is the intended target.

We have developed a complicated love-hate relationship, this clock and I.

I love it because the numbers are oversize -- as in huge, as in me with my ever-worsening far-sightedness can figure out the time in the middle of the night. And that's what clocks are for, right?

Then there's the hate side . . .

I had to be up and at 'em at oh dark thirty for a field trip last week, so I attempted to set the alarm . It wasn't easy, but at 4:45 on Wednesday morning, the alarm went off without a hitch.

Thank you, clock!

The following morning clock did the same. And I pressed what I thought was the off button. And the alarm sounded again. And again. And again. After I managed to press (bang, slam) every switch on the beeping thing, I was met with blessed silence. Clock was inexplicably blinking 0:08, whatever that means, but at least clock was mute.

But of course the story doesn't end there. Oh no. See, this deluxe model has two alarms -- one for weekdays, one for weekends. On Saturday mornings long about 4:00 a.m., my dear husband goes on prayer watch. He gets together with another neighbor from Alleluia Community. They spend an hour praying together while driving through our neighborhood, checking Alleluia's office, and walking the grounds of our school.

So at 3:50 Saturday morning, Dave was out of town, but faithful clock sounded the alarm. Once again I tried every button and switch I could toggle or smash. No luck. Most clocks have a snooze button -- this one has snooze, sleep, and nap. What these terms mean, I couldn't tell you. I think there's a unlabelled button called Primed to Irritate the Stuffing Out of You. Apparently I nailed that one repeatedly.

Meeting with no success whatsoever, I unplugged clock.

The dual-action alarm is not clock's only amazing feature. It's also equipped with battery back up in case of a random power outage, natural disaster, or nuclear meltdown. I'm telling you, the great brains behind this machine left no stone unturned.

I carried clock to the dining room table at the far end of the house, shut the doors in between, and attempted to go back to sleep.

Wishful thinking.

About ten minutes later I was met with Beep! Beep! Beep! And you know what the really insidious part of it all was? The volume kept getting louder and Louder and LOUDER! Our smoke detectors have nothing on this baby.

I got out of bed, removed the batteries, and successfully fought the urge to curse, fling clock out the front door, and hurl the batteries.

Clock is barred from crossing the threshold of my room until Dave returns and can get its bad-self back under control.