Recently I’ve taken talking to myself to a whole new level. People would think I’m crazy if I didn’t have the whole author excuse to fall back on. I mean, let’s be honest. Everyone knows authors are a special kind of breed.
Anyway, I’m going off track.
Some seriously weird things have happened in my house. It all began about a month ago…
The first thing to happen was, all the DVD’s fell off the top shelf of a unit in one go. Now as I’ve mentioned in the past, my fella is a film nut. Needless to say, this didn’t go down too well. While he knelt on the floor, picking them all up and crying as he caressed them, asking if they were okay, I had to wonder how they all fell off in one go.
From there, the front door began opening. This is highly annoying for us but great for the dogs as it allows them to take themselves for walks and provides us with exercise as we chase them around the street.
The third thing was a glass lamp shade falling from the ceiling, taking the bulb with it. On the plus side, now we know where the fuse box is. We also know that it’s too high for anyone below seven feet to reach and that the light fitting in the room where the fuse box is located doesn’t work.
We also discovered that we have the most nosy pets on the planet as one of them feels the need to examine the kitchen every morning… At four o’clock. Without fail.
So, by this point, we are starting to get a bit concerned. But we plod on as you do, and then things start turning on by themselves. First the TV, then the bedroom light… which led us to the slamming of a door. The bedroom door to be precise, while we were downstairs.
Now that one freaked me out a bit. We sent the fella upstairs to investigate while my daughter and I stood by the front door, preparing to flee. When he returned with no explanation for the door shutting we decided we should investigate too. After making my daughter put the kitchen knife back… because, quite frankly, I have no faith in her. She is my child after all… I grabbed a pet brush, (don’t ask what I planned to do with it, I didn’t think that far ahead.) and as a united front, we ascended the stairs… Well, we found nothing except a cat impersonating a Madame Tussaud’s waxwork.
Since then, My cat, who struggles to walk from her bed to the food bowl, scaled the door frame and my computer started playing the radio on its own.
Luckily, I have two dogs to help us feel safe. One of them does a great job of alerting me to trouble by crapping on the floor before hiding behind the sofa.
So, this led to me talking to myself. Or more specifically, the possible ghost that’s taken up residence with us. I mean, what else can you do when weird stuff happens? In all honesty, I can’t afford to keep replacing DVD’s and lampshades and I’m too fat to be chasing the dog around the street at four in the morning in my nightdress.
So, I talked to it. I asked it to leave.
Did it listen?
No, that’s when it turned on the radio, which leads me to think its a relative because selective hearing runs in the family.
Am I still looking for a logical explanation?… Of course!
But let’s just say, I’m slowly becoming a believer.