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So a couple of months ago, my oldest daughter told me a story. She was staying here, at my house, and went to the kitchen in the middle of the night. While she was in there, she thought she saw someone walk down the hall. She went and looked--no one there. So she got her cookies and went back to her room. While she was opening the door, someone brushed against her--at shoulder level, so not a cat. She squealed, dropped the cookies (I found the remains on the floor the next morning surrounded by sugar-surfeited felines) and ran into the room.
When she told me this story, I laughed a little (okay, really hard) and told her that she was no longer allowed to (a) drink or (b) watch ghost shows with me anymore.
About half an hour ago, I was in the bedroom editing with the door open when out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw someone walk down the hall. I stopped instantly. No one is here but me and the cats. I left the bedroom and walked through the house. The doors are all locked, as are the windows, and the house is empty. So I decided I had fluff in my eyelashes or something and went back to work. Not even two minutes later, the cat next to me on the bed started to growl. I looked up and distinctly saw a figure--about six foot, maybe six foot two, move out of the darkened living room, across the hall and into my daughter's (currently unoccupied) bedroom.
I'm now sitting in my bedroom with the door closed, six cats huddled around me on the bed, and the rosary sitting out in front of the computer.
I guess I owe my daughter an apology. Unless she psychically slipped tequila into my glass of milk from 300 miles away, I'm drinking she may not have been drunk at all.
Gee whillikers.
When she told me this story, I laughed a little (okay, really hard) and told her that she was no longer allowed to (a) drink or (b) watch ghost shows with me anymore.
About half an hour ago, I was in the bedroom editing with the door open when out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw someone walk down the hall. I stopped instantly. No one is here but me and the cats. I left the bedroom and walked through the house. The doors are all locked, as are the windows, and the house is empty. So I decided I had fluff in my eyelashes or something and went back to work. Not even two minutes later, the cat next to me on the bed started to growl. I looked up and distinctly saw a figure--about six foot, maybe six foot two, move out of the darkened living room, across the hall and into my daughter's (currently unoccupied) bedroom.
I'm now sitting in my bedroom with the door closed, six cats huddled around me on the bed, and the rosary sitting out in front of the computer.
I guess I owe my daughter an apology. Unless she psychically slipped tequila into my glass of milk from 300 miles away, I'm drinking she may not have been drunk at all.
Gee whillikers.