Sometimes there are moments that can only be appreciated by other parents. Currently, my wife and I are enjoying one of those moments, and I use the word "enjoy" to the fullest sarcastic intent possible.

You see, we have a toy. Actually, it's a book, but not one of those ordinary books that simply has words. No, dear reader. We have a book that makes an annoying siren sound, because it's about fire trucks.

It was designed for the kids, and the wailing siren is rivaled only by the sound of scratching fingernails on a blackboard, Cleveland Brown fans whining or a fancy hotrod that pulls up to the light on Main Street with all of its "woofers" shaking the paint off of my minivan.

Here's the most unfortunate part: The non-replaceable battery in the book is on its last leg and there is no way to turn the thing off. I have literally thrown the book into the backyard during a rainstorm, stepped on it with a boot and hurled it against a tree. Like that stupid pink Energizer Bunny, the book siren keeps going and going and going.

There are exactly zero places that the battery is hidden and no place for me to open up the "guts" of the book to get it to stop.

However, the parent in me refuses to throw the book away, especially in front of my children, both of whom seem to enjoy imitating all of my bad habits and none of my good habits.

Instead, my wife and I wait. We are currently on day number six of the book wailing.

Day number two was enough to push me over the edge, and I took the book outside and placed it underneath an outdoor seat cushion. At least it's currently keeping the deer away from my bushes.

You name it, we've seen it in the past six days — rainstorms, windstorms, power outages. The blaring book has had many opportunities to shut up once and for all, but so far, it just hasn't happened.

However, the "bad book" did give me a good laugh a few days ago when both my mother and mother-in-law stopped by for a visit. Since the weather was still mild, they decided to sit out on the porch for a few minutes while I played with the kids in the yard.

Within 30 seconds, both of them were up looking around the porch, trying to find the source of a siren sound in both of their heads.

Being the great son and son-in-law that I am, I pretended that I had no idea what they were talking about and told them that they were both going crazy.

The charade lasted for another few minutes as I watched them search for the sound that was making them crazy, enjoying the fact that for the first time ever, I was not the source of their discontent.

Finally, I decided to put them out of their misery and lifted the book from beneath the cushion.

"This thing is driving me crazy," I quipped.

Both smiled, and nearly in unison responded, "It was making us both crazy, too."

I simply placed the book back under the cushion and walked away.

Today, I still wait. However, I am wondering if I will actually miss the constant strain of the siren breaking the silence of my otherwise quiet backyard when it finally goes.

While I am sure that I won't, I can also be sure that somewhere down the line there will be another toy that drives me to the nuthouse.

Ah, the joys of parenting.