Our House is Haunted
But is it the ghost of Christmas Past, Present, or Future?
For the second morning in a row, I came downstairs to find the television on and the volume turned up loud. Yesterday, I assumed Jack had gotten up in the middle of the night and decided to watch TV, even though I thought it was odd he'd be watching Nickelodeon. I didn't mention it to anyone and didn't think about it again. But Jack spent the night at a friend's, so I knew it couldn't have been him this time. Then I figured one of the dogs must have stepped on the remote, but I remembered we've been using the batteries out of the remote for the miniature flashlight since the kitchen pantry bulbs burned out last weekend.
I asked Biggy if he'd gone back downstairs after we went to bed, and he assured me he hadn't budged. When I told him about the TV, he got that look on his face he gets when he believes he might have to use a public restroom for a sit-down. And he reminded me about another strange incident: When he got home from work yesterday, he asked me where the dish towel he'd stuck in the door to the back porch was. I told him I'd found a towel on the floor but didn't know where it had come from; I'd thrown it in the laundry. He told me the rubber molding had worn off that door and he'd stuck the rag there to keep the draft out. The door, by the way, had been deadbolted...