KEEPING A ROOF UNDER YOUR FEET

I can honestly say that at no point did it ever seem like a good idea.

Regardless, I still carried through with it, and that, my friends, is why I was stuck on my roof.

It all started a few nights ago when my wife heard a noise out in the living room. She often hears noises in the living room, so this was nothing new. I went through my normal routine, which is to wander in a zombie-like state through the house saying, "Any burglars or ghosts or chainsaw wielding maniacs in here? No? Good." I’m usually back asleep within 15 seconds. I have investigated so many unsubstantiated noises during my term as husband and chainsaw-wielding-maniac arch nemesis that I just don’t get psyched up for the big game any more.

The next day, as we were both sitting in the living room, the same noise reared its ugly little noisy head. My wife was ecstatic. This was the first time I have ever heard one of the noises! There was proof that the noises were real! I could stop trying to take her to the asylum!

Indeed, I had heard the noise, and it kind of sounded like someone was in our chimney, beating the insides with a rake. This indeed piqued my interests, and not just because it meant my wife was not insane. It meant that there was indeed something that I, as man of the house, would have to investigate, and possibly bludgeon.

My first step was to look inside the chimney. For those of you who are chimney sweeps or Santa Claus, you know that the inside of a chimney is a very dark and sooty place. Quite frankly, looking up a chimney is no way to spend you day. Looking down a chimney – now that’s the way to travel.

I stood outside and stared up at the chimney, attached innocently on my roof and extending up about six feet. I knew that this was going to be a three-step process: 1. Sneak ladder out without my wife seeing. No way in the world she would let me carry through with this. Time was of the essence. 2. Get on roof. 3. Haul ladder up to roof with me so that I would be able to see down in the chimney.

Note that there was no #4. Had I thought the plan through, there would have been a #4, and it would have involved getting down.

Once I snuck the ladder out back, I tied some rope to the top step, and then looped it through my belt loop. My plan was to get on the roof and pull the ladder up with me. As I stood on the very top step of the ladder (you know, the one that says "NOT A STEP!!! DO NOT GET UP HERE UNLESS YOU HAVE ALL OF YOUR ESTATE DOCUMENTS IN ORDER!!"), I came to realize that my roof was a lot steeper than I thought. And a lot higher. I was as high up on the ladder as I could go, and the roof was still only at about my waist.

I stood there for a minute, going over all of the reasons why I should just back down the ladder and call it an evening. That’s when that little part of the male brain that controls rational thought went on the fritz. In a flash, I had scurried up on the roof and was spread out like a gecko, trying to hang on for dear life. Realizing that I would have to grab hold of something, I scurried a few feet up the steep incline and grabbed hold of the chimney. Victory!

Once I was securely on the roof, I hauled the ladder up there with me. I checked the chimney and found the culprit – a tree branch was knocking against some aluminum flashing. I freed the tree branch, and paused for a moment to think about how much of an American hero I really was.

When I decided it was time to get off the roof, I realized that I had not quite planned the most complete mission. However, I had better write the last chapter pretty quickly, because the missus could come outside any minute now.

I decided I would lower the ladder down with the rope, gingerly setting it down where I had previously used it to climb up. I would then slowly descend to the top of my ladder perch, come down the ladder, and return to the confines of my happy home, with no one the wiser.

There were several flaws in this plan, the main one being that I cannot control gravity. The whole idea was as ill-conceived as a piercing party at Jesse Helms’ house. It just wasn’t going to go over well.

As I sat on the roof, the ladder dangling over the edge, I tried several unsuccessful attempts to get the ladder on the ground. I came nowhere close. Instead, what I did was create a great-big pendulum that smacked into the side of the house several times. While I thought I was being covert, my wife was inside hearing "WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!" Needless to say, this raised an eyebrow.

As I continued to try to set the ladder down, my concentration was knocked a little out of order by the exceptionally loud cry of "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?!?"

Now, folks, there are a lot of wrong answers here. I think I opted for one of the wronger ones with, "Honey, this doesn’t concern you. Go back inside."

My wife stood there and gave me the look that says, "If you survive this, I will never allow you to live it down, so you may want to consider staying up there."

Will Mike survive his harrowing adventure? Will his wife take the ladder and move it far, far away as a "learning tool"? Or will he opt to live on the roof, rather than have to hear the constant wails of "What were you thinking?" Tune in next week to find out. If the suspense is killing you, e-mail me at mwg1234@yahoo.com and I’ll tell you if I made it off the roof.