Five-Alarm Breakfast

Life is never dull around here. This morning is a good example, not only of how a simple morning activity can turn into an international incident, but also how it never fails that I'll be the one to prove the truth behind a popular saying.

I got up this morning craving a country breakfast. So, I got the biscuits in the oven, the grits in the pot, eggs all scrambled and the ham cooking away in the pan. Country ham... yum! It's salty and tough to some but heaven on a plate to me on a cool mid-winter's morning. Frying away, I hear this annoying beeping. I investigate:

Alarm clock: nope.
Doorbell: nope.
Washer/Dryer: nope/nope.
Cell phones: nope. nope. nope. nope. (Yeah, we got a few.)

About this time, I hear the phone ring. I'm multitasking, so I put it on speaker.

Me: Hello?

Caller: Yes, hello, this is the home security monitoring service. We have an alarm reporting from your location. Is everything okay?

Me: As far as I know, yes, we are fine. [I walk over and check the alarm keypad] Yep, there's a code appearing [I read off the number] what is that?

Caller: It's the fire alarm.

Entire family, all at once: ROTFLMAO

Caller: Sir? Sir? Is everything okay? Did you find out what set off the fire alarm?

Me: We are fine. Shall I cook up more ham and eggs for the Fire Chief?

Caller: ROTFLMAO

Thus, I have gone down in family lore and legend as living proof of Jeff Foxworthy's axiom, "You know you're a redneck if the fire alarm doubles as an oven timer."