Ever have one of those weeks where all kinds of weird stuff seems to happen in your house? I’m not talking about raw steak inchworming across the counter or kids getting sucked into televisions or anything. Just unexplained. So … naturally … I’ve decided we have a ghost.
Here’s the evidence.
1. Remember the toilet-and-plunger-shaped erasers I bought recently? I bought three. Definitely. I counted them as I sat on the floor next to my bed and arranged all of my kids’ book fair loot to photograph it for your entertainment. And, as soon as I snapped the picture, my kids immediately absconded with the first two erasers into their rooms. The third I tucked away back into the bag with the three remaining books I purchased for my godchild’s birthday. Then I set the bag right next to my nightstand where it stayed (seemingly untouched) for 24 hours. The next day, when I dumped its contents onto the bed for gift wrapping, I counted one … two … three books but no eraser. I checked the bag, then the floor, then the bag again, then under the bed and all around the area and then, for good measure, once more in the bag. Because three is a good OCD checking number. But the toilet eraser was gone. Vanished into thin air. As though it had been flushed out of existence. (Seriously, that’s my only toilet joke … which I think shows incredible restraint.)
2. I’ve been sifting through a lot of old pictures lately as I need a few for my son’s coming 7th grade graduation. (Don’t even get me started here. I see lots of sniffly, snotty blog posts in the future.) Many of my photo envelopes are kept in the closet on the shelf in a small plastic blue dish pan. (I’m fancy that way.) Anyway, when I went to retrieve them recently, I noticed that all of the envelopes and other assorted contents were there on the shelf, exactly positioned as though they were in the pan. But the pan itself had been smashed to bits beneath it. It looked literally to have disintegrated inexplicably beneath its cargo. Somebody (or something!) really hated that dish pan.
3. My son bought a brand new pair of special edition Nike socks from a sports store in town and, as they were yet unopened, he was contemplating trading them with a friend. He brought them to me and we discussed the whole thing because he just couldn’t decide. Because my daughter was sleeping out that night, we were the only two people home from then until the next morning. And thus I have no explanation as to how or why, as he was getting dressed the following day, he could have discovered that same special edition pair in his drawer, now fully opened, with the packaging nowhere to be found. (Did the ghost actually try on the socks?!!?) Oh, and I’m still not sure my son believes that I did not open the damned things.
4. The kids and I recently took on a 1000-piece puzzle. It was actually a lot of fun (I would probably use air quotes here if I was telling the story aloud) until we got to the large plain white and plain grey bands around the colorful and easily discernible design. At this point in the puzzle assembly, I contemplated using a pair of scissors to customize the pieces to my specifications. (Insert noises of frustration and defeat here.) And then it happened. I’d estimate we were about 850 pieces finished with our masterpiece when suddenly one end piece (that had previously been positioned properly, mind you) went missing. We looked everywhere in that room. I still have no idea where in the HELL it could have gone.
However, something tells me I should probably check the litter box for any signs of our poltergeist for the next week or so.