I have a ghost.
This is no secret, I've said it before. My ghost is the fairly non-confrontational type. She (we're pretty sure it's a she) likes to open and close doors, bounce invisible balls, and pad around the floors above us late at night. Mostly, she's quiet. I often forget she's even there.
Not tonight. Tonight, she was active. She was moving things around in the attic.
When I heard the boxes sliding around, I immediately assumed my kids were upstairs looking for something. Oh, I thought they'd gone out for the evening, but who else could be moving boxes around in the attic? So, I called out to them, wondering what they'd forgotten.
There was no answer.
So I looked outside and discovered their vehicle was missing. No kids at home. But the boxes moved around again. So I yelled to my husband to go up there and check things out. (Because, that's what he's here for, right? As a guy? Work with me.)
He got up and headed for the stairs before remembering the lights don't work over the stairs...or in the upstairs hallway. A coincidental happenstance that never fails to freak the family out. The wiring is old, but how convenient is it the lights don't work where the ghost hangs out? My thoughts, exactly.
The husband decided not to check out the upstairs after all. And I guess I couldn't blame him, but it got me thinking. If my ghost is so interested in moving stuff around in my attic, why doesn't she just go down and organize my basement? That's a place that could use some serious organizing, and it's sorta scary down there. She's already dead, so what does she have to be afraid of, right?
I might have to get her to put away my Christmas decorations first...you know...work up (or down) to the basement gradually. Hey, it's just an idea.
Until the next time...I'll be steering clear of the upstairs until daylight.