I almost always hear it when I'm down in the kitchen, doing my Bride of Frankenstein impersonation and staring sullenly into the sink, waiting for the coffee to brew.
"What is that?" I ask Jon Bon Jovi (not my husband's real name), who is rummaging in the pantry for food.
"I don't hear anything."
"You seriously don't hear that...that thipping thound?"
"You're lisping. And you're hearing things. Are you having a stroke? Because if you are, I'll wait and get a danish at the hospital."
Clearly, this sound is so evil that only I can hear it.
So I start looking around, following the sound, which seems to move around and change in intensity as I move from room to room. Just when I think I've got it nailed, it seems to be coming from somewhere else. Inside? Outside?
After about 20 minutes, though, I've got it narrowed down to two possibilities.
The thip-thip-thip is for sure coming either from this: