Dear Smoke Detector,
I am writing you to formally address a complaint I’ve expressed against you for quite some time. I understand that your job description requires you to detect smoke. However, your enthusiasm is becoming excessive. This is my first year as a wife and I’m still learning how to cook; I don’t see any reason why you should announce my embarrassing mishaps to the entire apartment complex.
Furthermore, there’s no need for you to wake up every smoke detector in the house. If our house is actually on fire, I’m sure I’ll appreciate your eardrum-molesting, soul-scraping screech, but no one was in danger last night when I was cooking chicken on the stove. The chicken didn’t even burn. I didn’t know pasta sauce had splashed under the burner the other day. It was rude of you to make me open all my windows on a cold night, letting out all the warm air we spent our hard-earned money on.
All I’m saying is take a break around dinner time. Go catch a movie or something. Come back when the dishes are done and we’re watching TV. I’ll smell the smoke; I don’t need your help for that.
In fact, maybe just take a long vacation and come back when my future son or daughter is learning how to make Hot Pockets in the microwave. I’m sure we’ll require your services at that time.