The juice

When we had babies and toddlers, boy, did we ever go through batteries. In toys, in gadgets, in lights, and especially those rectangular ones for baby monitors. There were boomboxes in those days, too, and the one we had took eight or 10 of the Size D, which was a heavy load.

We're out of that phase of life now, and the battery drawer in the basement doesn't get opened nearly as much. Maybe when the power goes out, or when a clock needs a new AA. But we have a few units that run on batteries that don't come out of the drawer. And this month, by coincidence, I have replaced the power cells in three of them: the car, the cell phone, and just the other day, the home alarm system.

In all three cases, the people who sold me the new battery took away the old one for proper disposal. So we can power up with a clear conscience. Well, relatively clear.

The thing in the alarm system was a little scary-looking. Like a car battery, only smaller. Lead, I think. The one we replaced had "11-07" scrawled on the side. Don't know whether that was when it went in, or when it was supposed to come out. But it was overdue for replacement, that's for sure.

With that done, merrily we roll along, for a while.