Gurgle

What is the singularly most annoying sound in the entire world?

Fingernails on a chalkboard? No.

The squeaky sound of tennis shoes on a polished floor? Not even close.

The high pitched whine of a microphone feedback squeal? Try again.

The most annoying sound generally doesn't occur during daylight hours. Because when it happens during the day, it's a minor inconvenience. But, when it happens at night, it can frustrate the patience of a Saint and drive the Devil to distraction.

To what do I refer?

I am thinking about the mind jarring, sleep robbing irritant of a leaky toilet tank.

Since the water level never reaches its zenith, and the leaking flap at the bottom dispenses just enough water to make the Chinese water torture finals, there is the continual gurgle that goes on until you are compelled to arise from your bed in the pitch blackness of the sleepless night, dodge the sprawling places of various dogs and pairs of shoes that didn't walk themselves into the closet or the toys that mysteriously remained where they were dropped and into the appropriate bathroom to begin the ministrations on the toilet that will silence the nocturnal gargling that creates insomniacs.

Once the appropriate bathroom is detected, the fun really begins.

If it is the toilet lottery lucky night, you can guess not only the correct bathroom, but with a couple of quick jiggles of the handle, silence the toilet and return to bed before you realize that the pain in the arch of your foot is from the jacks you have just trod upon.

However, since this is generally not the end to our adventure, the game continues.

Seeking from the closest to the farthest of the three bathrooms for the offending toilet (pun not intended), when the guilty porcelain is discovered, it begins a process that involves a lot of whispered pleas for repair that will not include sticking a hand into the watery depths of the tank in the semi-darkness to press the flapper into the drain hole which will allegedly stop the trickly dribbles of water and restore the opportunity for at least a partial nights' rest.

The one thing worse than having to plunge your hand into the cold water to restore quiet is the return to the bedroom after washing, sanitizing and spraying down your arm with disinfectant only to hear another household member making the trek to the very bathroom you have just jousted with in order to catch some "Zzz's".

Trying to prevent the entire household from being jarred awake, loud stage whispers of "DON'T USE THAT BATHROOM!!!" go unheeded and the grousing begins as it is obvious that another trip to the jiggle station will be required.

The sleepwalker returns to their warm bed oblivious to the water antics going on in the night.

Lucky.

Makes you want to fill a pan with warm water and give them a little surprise, except for the fact that you would have to wash the sheets and air out the mattress while the household left for the days' activities.

Once again, the arm sinks into the cold waters filling the tank in the repetitive water ballet that bears no resemblance to Esther Williams and her girls. Jamming the flapper into place, the unthinkable happens and the little chain snaps into two pieces which will never be mated again.

Dang those manufacturers and their cheap plastic parts!!

Locking the door to the bathroom and carefully shutting the door so all other nightly visitors will be compelled to employ one of the other two bathrooms, sleep will finally come. Maybe.

I sink wearily to the mattress. My eyes close. My body begins to relax into the numbered perfection that is alleged to guarantee sleep.

Then the baby wakes up. To PLAY. No diaper change, no snack, no desperate need in the night. Oh no. This is just a midnight call for "Mom and Me time". Wonderful.

Where is that dang butterfly that puts people to sleep when you need it?