Code Brown

So Ms. A is upstairs putting Erin to bed.  I'm downstairs cleaning up, baby monitor at my belt.  I hear some vague unrest from Erin, starting quietly and then getting louder.  Then, silence and a little rustling.  

Ms. A, the funniest and most beautiful woman in the universe, bends close to the monitor's base station, and, simply for her own amusement, in her best broadcaster's voice, calmly and pleasantly intones the following: "Code Brown, we have a Code Brown."

Much in the same voice you might hear someone say over the P.A. at a department store: "Women's Wear, call holding on Line One.  Women's Wear, Line One."