It’s Haunted I Tell Ya!

Sean has been gone now for four-ish days on yet another work trip (this time I will actually call it a work trip instead of vacation because he is working lots of over time…although he did go to a swimming party last night, so maybe I should retract what I just said) which will total 10 days by the time he returns.  Maybe it’s because I am becoming more accustom to him being gone and dealing with the boys mono y momma, but I don’t fear him leaving anymore.  And by ‘fear’, I mean leaving the lights on at night and having the boys’ video monitor on right next to my head so I can hear and see every little thing…aka ghost…that may attempt to make and appearance.   Yes, I live in a brand-new building, so ghosts shouldn’t be a fear of mine, but they are…or at least they were when I lived back in good ol’ Wahoo.

Our humble Wahoo abode under construction.

Our humble Wahoo abode under construction.

Not my basement but essentially the same idea. Photo credit to google images.

Not my basement but essentially the same idea. Photo credit to google images, just type “creepy basement” and hit search.

Our house in Wahoo was built in 1938, which is old, so old in fact, that it still had the heavy iron coal shoot from the garage to the coal room in the basement.  The basement was a sight to be seen, straight out of every creepy basement thriller movie known to mankind.  The walls bowed and sagged with pressure from the earth outside, the ceiling was exposed leaving ancient wires and plumbing open to all spiders who needed a damp dark place to call home…and this was also where I did laundry.  Preferably only during the day, and even then it was still dark and creepy.  Oh, and did I mention it was (or maybe still is?) haunted?  One afternoon was trying to take care of laundry as quick as humanly possible but not quick enough.  Before I could finish all the lights in the basement turned off, even the one on a pull string that I later learned isn’t on the same switch as the rest of the lights.  Due to the switch being located at the top of the basement stairs, I assumed Sean was pulling a fast one on me and had flicked them off.  After a few obscenities and threats on my behalf the lights turned back on with no word from Sean.  I return to my business to have then turn off yet again three minutes or so later.  The strange thing this time is that the light on the pull string remained on.  Not thinking much of it I yell at Sean again to turn the darn lights back on…and no response.  Standing in near darkness I decide to go take matters into my own hands.  Climbing the stairs I realize that the house is quiet, except for the buzz of the lawn mower coming from our back yard.  Sean had been out there the whole time… As soon as I had reached the top of the stairs, all the lights came back on, except this time the light on the pull string somehow turned itself off.  Needless to say, I didn’t return to the basement to discover the pull string light for another hour until Sean could accompany me downstairs.

That was Just one creepy instance.  Another that comes to mind was when I was getting ready in the bathroom one morning while Sean was still sleeping.  Thankfully for me, I didn’t have many pregnancy symptoms except for having a nose that could smell what you had for breakfast last week on Tuesday, I should have been a side-show act for a traveling circus…”Come one, come all and feast your eyes and the amazing Sniffer Woman!  Place your bets on if you think she can guess what breed of dog you own and the last time you gave it a bath!”.  (Ready for a personal flash back from my past?  When I was a freshman in high school I had a civil studies teacher who was a side-show performer back in her day…Electro Woman.  She would stand on an electrically charged platform and shock innocent by standers. Or so she said…).  Anyway, this morning was no different.  Avoiding bumping into the counter with my three-month twin belly, twisting my hair back into some form of a tamed bun, I get smacked in the face with the overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke.  Neither of us smoke…  It was like I had stepped nose first into a Marlbolo commercial from the 50’s.

Fearing that the ghost followed us to Germany, and not being fully independent as a new mom, it goes without saying that when Sean is gone, things tend to be a bit rough for me.  The day before he leaves I send him to the grocery store with a list that could feed a small army and diaper a child for a month.  I’m kind of surprised that I didn’t include something like a pickaxe or shovel on this list in case of a potential zombie apocalypse while he’s away.  This time is different though, and maybe it’s because I feel more secure in my power as a mom from traveling internationally with the boys alone, but I don’t need the lights on, and the monitor stays put on the bedside table…with the video turned off.  I even managed to go on a play date and to Zumba class (and speaking of Zumba class, a little boy managed to get a video of, I’m hoping, just his mom doing Zumba, but if I see that video pop up on YouTube with my horrible dance skills in the spotlight, you better believe I will hunt that kid down! Or at least tell his mom to remove his “Zumba FAIL!” video from YouTube.)


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