Our first full day in this house.
My husband took our three year old out in the stroller, accompanied by the dog on a leash (Rosie, our golden retriever). Our six year old went along on his bike. I was left alone with the baby.
I opened the back sliding door and laid her on the floor in that weird tiny room that was too small to hold much of anything. I wanted to give her a little sun and let her have a chance to wiggle around. The only piece of furniture in the room was an antique marble-top table I’d inherited from my grandmother. It hadn’t been put together yet. The frame was pushed into a corner while the heavy marble table top - weighing in at about 40 lbs. without the packing - was still in its box, leaning against the wall where the movers had left it.
Now, if this heavy box had fallen, gone splat on the carpet, I wouldn’t have thought a thing about it. I would have assumed the movers simply weren’t careful when they propped it up.
But that’s not what happened.
What happened was this- the box slid along the wall, moving six inches. Exactly like someone had pushed it from right to left. I held my breath, stared for a moment, picked up the baby, went to find my husband and I said, “The house is haunted. We can’t stay here.”
He laughed. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Don’t be silly!”
“No,” I said. “It’s haunted and I can’t live here.”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Well you don’t have a choice.”
Damn him. Stupid white man.
Tomorrow - Welcome to My Parlor Said the Ghost to the Dumb-ass Jewish Woman.
Ooooooh Spooky.
Creepy, unless your baby had superhuman strength and was pushing it. Then it would still be creepy, but at least you’d have a baby with potential.
I’ll wait for more hints tomorrow…
LOL I was thinking the same thing about the baby with superhuman strength. Anticipating the next installment.
*Penny’s eyes get wide*
*Penny makes microwave popcorn and waits for next installment*
*Penny decides not to watch any scary movies tonight*
Can’t wait for the next part. I’m with Penny, no scary movies.
Giving me chills. Shees.
Get’s worse, ya’ll. Nasty-ass ghost.
Why do men not listen???
Oh they never listen, Anny!
Uber Creepy.
It gets uberer creepy my dear Steph.
Stranger and stranger.
All I have is cat ghost stories.
I also have cat ghost stories, Sandra. My cats always come back to visit.