Apparently my wife equipped our home with some kind of lifesaving device that detects carbon dioxide and other dangerous gases within the home. Until the other night, I barely even noticed that the stupid thing was in our bedroom. Needless to say, my parents were less than concerned about noxious gas, as I had never seen one of those before in my life. Somehow, people have been able to live comfortably for thousands of years without one of these dopey things.

So, anyway, I\’m in our room the other night watching the Brewers and chowing down on some potato chips and dip. My daughter was sleeping comfortably. And let\’s just say I was feeling some… intestinal distress, accompanied perhaps by the occasional \”one cheek sneak.\” Don\’t judge me – you all do it.

\"\"As you can guess, suddenly alarms started going off in the house with flashing lights and loud sirens. I ran over to unplug the damn thing, but it had a battery that was secured by a screw, and I didn\’t happen to have a phillips head on me. I finally took it and threw it outside to keep it from piercing my eardrums. My daughter woke up and started crying, my wife thought the house was on fire, and I think the neighbors started gathering outside my house to see what the commotion was. It wouldn\’t have surprised me to see fire trucks and police cars race up to my house, with crowds of people crying and covering their faces. Men in Hazmat suits would cover my house with a giant bubble while the American Red Cross sets up trauma centers up and down the street.

So the question is…

Could I have set the thing off? Am I a walking DNR clean air violation? Someone has to know how those things work. Settle a bet for me. My wife thinks it was me, while I think there\’s no way that\’s how those things work.

SIDE NOTE: There\’s nothing worse than eating a half a bag of potato chips, then realizing after the fact that they were Olestra chips. At that point, you become a ticking time bomb. You just have to sit there and look at the clock for a half hour before the stomach pains start – you\’re a dead man walking. It\’s like the walk to the bathroom suddenly becomes The Green Mile.