August 25

I was startled awake at 2:20 this morning by the shrill chirp of a fire alarm in dire need of a fresh set of batteries. Since Adam's out of town, I dealt with it by stuffing a wad of tissue in my ear and putting a pillow on top of my head, and eventually, mercifully, I was able to tune out the noise and get back to sleep.

When I finally got up for the day several hours later, I quickly determined that the offending device was the one located at the highest point of our bedroom ceiling (because of course it was). And I groaned to myself; I'm not short, per se, but even standing on the top rung of the ladder we own, I can't reach that high.

So I asked Isaac if he would help. And after church and lunch, he complied. He retrieved the ladder from the garage, gazed up at the ceiling, and expressed doubt that he could reach it. I assured him he could --mostly because the thought of having to listen to that chirp, chirp, chirp for another few days was fully overwhelming but also because Adam had done it before-- and he mounted the first rung. 

Initially, he descended and told me he was sorry, but he couldn't reach it. I asked him if he'd please try once again, so we moved the dresser over a foot, repositioned the ladder, and up he went. And he did it. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and thanked him profusely for his help.

And I am indeed so, so grateful that's he's tall and that he was willing to help me. I could tell that he was nervous about going up to the next-to-highest rung --because he had to in order to reach the device -- but he steeled himself and did it anyway. For me. And I am grateful for his brave gesture.