Sometimes I Wish My Brain Was Five

 

As the ADT installer drove away from our house after installing our fancy and expensive security system, I struggled to take a deep breath.

My brain: I’m pretty sure that in those Lifetime movies it’s usually the guy that installed the security system that ends up being the psycho killer.  Why was he looking so intently at us as he asked us to come up with a verbal password to use over the phone.  Why did he sweat so much? 

He knows where all the sensors are.  He knows the layout of our house.  He averted his eyes as I punched in the numerical code we chose, but he could easily have installed some kind of transponder in the main alarm system box that gives him total access to that code.

His shoes were also way too nice!  Installing security systems can’t pay all that much.  You know what pays well?  Robbing people.  Home security is probably the biggest smartest scam around.

I could totally end up as one of those women who when her husband is away on business, hears the home alarm go off in the middle of the night.  Then when ADT calls me on the home phone to see if I’m alright I’ll say, “I think so”.  The man on the phone will ask me if anyone is in the house, and I’ll shakily say, “I’m not sure…” He’ll laugh slowly and say, “Turn around”… and it will be the installer guy behind me, ready to pounce.

My five year old (looking worried):  Mommy?  

Me:  What, baby?

My five year old:  I hope the alarm doesn’t give Santa any trouble.

I let out a big breath – clearly one I’ve been holding for a good three minutes.

 

jenni chiu sig

 

 

 

 

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4 responses to “Sometimes I Wish My Brain Was Five”

  1. Santa has mad ninja skills and can avoid any/all sensor detection. Seriously, he’d be truly scary if it stopped working for good.

  2. Roxanne says:

    I wish my brain worked like that too. Seems much less stressful.

  3. Dixie says:

    I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s brain will randomly launch into scenario hyper drive.
    I work in a nuclear plant and have thought out full scenarios of how I will react if terrorists sneak in and take over. So far, according to my imagination, my best bet on surviving seems to be climbing up into the ceiling. And of course from there I will make a whispered, shaky phone call to let everyone know I am inside the plant but safe. At that point, naturally, the FBI decides to make use of my position and uses me to save the day. Only, in my head I can never decide if I succeed or get caught or just say screw you, hang up the phone and make a mad dash for the gate doing a bob and weave. God I hope I make it.

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