She says, “The washing machine is making a funny noise!” Husbands hate “funny noise” statements: Does the car sound funny to you? – Do you hear that funny noise in the wall? – Did the TV sound funny when it came on? We know what a funny noise question means. We’ll have to do something unpleasant. Or worse, we’ll have to spend money.
So, we lie! “The car always sounds like that; you never noticed because the radio was turned up too high.” – “That gnawing noise in the wall is just a loose piece of siding moving in the breeze.” (It’s ironic that noises in the wall are only heard at night when you’re snuggled down under the covers). Loose siding? We know full well it’s a chipmunk or a mouse or a bat. We’re ready for the bat; we have a tennis racquet hidden under the bed. The mouse and the chipmunk are another story all together. Still, we lie. Hoping against hope it will go away and we can put off dealing with it for another day or two.
It’s even worse these days, with electronic tattle tales to back up a funny noise statement. Smoke detectors, carbon monoxide detectors, beeping security systems. Even the car is our enemy in deflecting funny noise questions. That darn “check engine” light glares up from the dash. It’s hard to discredit using a “faulty bulb” excuse. Yet, we try. The last time I did, the light didn’t just turn on, it started blinking. My lies went through the roof, but it ended up costing me $1,700. If I’d only paid attention (for once) to the funny noise statement or the check engine light.
I can’t help it. I have to lie. I know what funny noises really mean: the skunk I had to trap in the basement and relocate without getting sprayed, the bevy of chimney swifts that emerged from the fireplace, perched on the curtains and treated the room to an array of white speckled decorations, the chipmunk trap I had to purchase and use to relocate a lovely couple to a nice spot in the woods, the new fan motor for the refrigerator, the new washing machine, re-plumbing the downstairs toilet and, of course, the $1,700 car repair. You’d think that would be enough evidence to convince me to listen up when a “funny noise” statement comes my way.
But, I’ve learned nothing. When the water from the Susquehanna came across Front Street and was making a funny noise by the curb in front of our house in 2011, my lies were spectacular. “We don’t need to pull up the rugs and move the furniture to the second floor. We didn’t get a drop of water in 2006 and that was a 100-year flood. It’s only been five years. This will stop at the curb too.” Wrong again! Will I ever learn? Today, the dryer stopped producing heat, but at least it didn’t make a funny noise. A lie won’t save me, but I’m trying to come up with one just in case.
Complaints? Send them to mlessler7@gmail.com.
