My house is haunted. The ghost, or ghosts, first appeared last Sunday after I gave my very first author talk about how my new book. During the discussion I referred to the fact that the sibling rivalry I grew up with—the teasing and taunting on the part of my older siblings towards me, (I was always innocent)—today would reclassify what was once thought of as a normal family as a dysfunctional one.
When Hubby and I arrived home hours after the event, I discovered the curling iron for my hair was on. (It doesn’t have an auto shut off.) I distinctly remembered pressing the on button to off and told that to my husband when he accused me of not turning it off. “You were talking on the phone while doing your hair and not concentrating on what you were doing.”
Fortunately, the hot part was in a position that there was no damage.
The next day, when I started my car I heard a voice from my glove compartment telling me to turn left at the corner. I stopped the car, reached into the glove compartment and turned off the GPS. I hadn’t used it for two weeks, so why, if it was on— I later told Hubby before he could say I didn’t turn it off— didn’t it “talk” before?
Later that day, when Hubby and I came home, we heard a motor running inside our house. Somehow, my hair dryer went on by itself. Surly either my husband or I would have heard the loud noise if the dryer was on before we left the house. Logic said so, thus I wasn’t blamed for nearly burning our house down because I was busy doing three things at once. The next night I turned off the lamp in the family room. Two minutes later, it went back on by itself.
I shared the stories with my Mah Jongg group. One of the players informed me my house was haunted. “My mother does it to me all the time if she is pissed at me. I yell at her to stop, I’m a grown woman, and then she leaves me alone for awhile.”
I believe visits from beyond possible, so I was excited at the prospect of finally having my first “visit.” After our game was over, I came home and stood in my bedroom. I told my parents in a loud and clear voice that I loved them, and knew that they loved all of us equally and did their best, but the statement about my family being a dysfunctional family by 2011 standards was true. I begged them to understand and stop playing tricks before my house was set on fire.
Hubby heard me and wanted to know who I was talking to. I told him, he reiterated that I wasn’t concentrating on what I was doing. The next morning my husband called the electrician—just in case he was wrong and either we had a short in the walls or a ghost. The electrician patiently— via speakerphone—walked us from each misbehaving appliance to the next. It seems each appliance could stop operating before the button was put completely in the off position. So, if someone is in a hurry, and doesn’t make sure the switch says off, or listens for the click, the appliance can go back on.
I would never be so careless to not turn things off properly. My house is haunted. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.