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My Very Haunted House

Well what a week! Scott and I are now a proud Auntie and Uncle to a new bundle of perfect smooshiness! Seriously. This little guy has just the right amount of smoosh.... the kind that makes your ovaries skip a beat. His mom is going to have to keep a stick at the door to beat off all the people swooning over him. Which is also terrifying, by the way. My sister in law is a mom. AND she is younger than I am. Which means I am old enough to be a mom. And well, that is just insanity. How on earth did we get here?!


Scott is also helping me create a little corner so I have somewhere to go to write. We have spent the week refinishing an old wood desk (photos to follow when it is all finished) and I am pretty sure I have him talked into letting me drag one of our armchairs upstairs so I have a perfect seat to curl up in. It's really all about setting, this writing business. At least that is what I am telling him. Ha! But now to the serious business. I think my house is haunted.


There have been some strange happenings around the house, and I've come to the conclusion that it must be a ghost. Scott just rolls his eyes at me, but the evidence speaks for itself! And yes, I believe in ghosts/spirits/entities.... that shit is real. In fact, I demanded to be left alone in our house before we bought it so that I could make sure no one else "was there". I am fine with neighbours, but other-worldly tenants are a no no.


Now that I read that back, I am seriously questioning Scott's judgement. That should have been a red flag to run for the hills and away from me. "Can you leave me alone in here for a minute? Just gotta make sure that this isn't the Amityville Horror House. Thanks hon". Honestly. He must have some serious issues. Anyways....


The house is haunted. To understand, you must know that before I leave for work in the morning, I neaten the house. Breakfast dishes go in the sink, dish washer gets ran if needed, I start Kevin and I walk out the door. But when I get home from work, it is chaos. It is almost like I can track where the ghost has been. The newspaper I had neatly folded on the table is splayed out across the kitchen (sometimes there is even papers on the floor). Then, as you work your way further into the house it gets stranger. The pantry light is sometimes on, or there are random cupboards and drawers open. And once the freaking freezer was ajar. But when I go to question Scott about it, and what he may have seen or heard before I got home, he says nothing out of the ordinary has happened.


Go upstairs and it's like a freaking bomb went off. Three dresser drawers open. Laundry that was neatly in the hamper to be washed is splayed out over the bedroom floor.


However, the most disturbing evidence is what happens at night. I always go to bed first, followed by Scott (as you remember I do not like the dark and if we want to go to bed at a decent hour, Scott checks the locks for me so I am not rechecking the lock for twenty minutes before finally giving up and deciding- fuck it- and going to bed anyways. Burglars, youths and hoodlums be damned). So anyways, where was I? Oh right!


I go to bed with a big glass of water and inevitably, have to get up to pee at 2am. And when I get off the toilet I can feel something weird sticking to my butt. Guess what it is. Go ahead....


Contacts. I get used contacts stuck to my butt. A poltergeist fishes Scott's contacts out of the garbage and drops them on the toilet seat for fun.


Now I know what you're thinking. Kay.... there has to be a simple explanation.


But- you see- it's either ghosts and poltergeists are having fun messing up my house, or I live with a 30 year old man who doesn't know how to shut a cupboard, can't aim and hits the toilet seat instead of the water when flushing his contacts. And I refuse to believe it's the latter. AND, after careful consideration, Scott agrees that it must be a ghost.


And sometimes the ghost makes his way to the driveway for more fun. When Scott asks silly questions like, "Kay, where did the dent come from in your bumper?" Or, "Why is the lawn mower on it's side at the bottom of the bank?", I calmly explain that it must be the same ghost that's been fucking with us in the house.


So my point is, having a haunted house has its perks and can save you from many senseless arguments. I think ghosts have the potential to lower the divorce rates in this country!




Love, Kay


P.S. I hope you are having a good summer and staying as safe as possible. If you are struggling, be sure to reach out for help. It's been a hard 18 months, and it's okay to not be okay.





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