Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Ghost In You

So, I wasn't going to post about this because I was afraid talking about it would make it worse and open some ghostly portal or something but everything has been quiet since so I'm going for it. I like to live on the edge. I'm also going to drink milk that expired yesterday so LOOK OUT. On Friday night, I had another "encounter". After we put Max to bed around 8, Jeff told me he was going to run back up to work to do some kind of computer nerd stuff for about an hour. He left about 8:15 and I proceeded to work on my cakes for that weekend. I work in what used to be our dining room but is now the world headquarters for The Atomic Cake Co. (ha ha), unless we're having company in which time it returns to it's natural dining room form. Our home office opens into the dining room and has two very old and creaky French doors (see picture above). I say it's our office but it's really just a room filled with too many art supplies, computers, out of season clothes, a potty chair, etc. It used to be a bedroom and when my Meemaw was with us, it was her room. Anyway, as I was sitting there working, I heard Zoey scratching at the gate at Max's bedroom door. This isn't really unusual because she's obsessed with his room for some reason but it pisses me off because she always does it right as he's going to sleep and she won't stop until I make her.

I walked around the corner to tell her to shut up and noticed that she was acting stranger than usual. She was kind of walking around in a circle in front of his room and when she saw me, she ran up to the gate that closes off the dining room from the rest of the house because I have a strict no dog and no kid policy at my fake cake shop. She was VERY persistent at the gate and not in a "I NEED TO PEE RIGHT NOW" kind of way but more of a "MOMMY HELP ME" kind of way. I realized she wasn't going to back down so I relented and allowed her to get closer to where I was. For the record, I was NOT working on actual cake at this point, just some fondant sculpting. Anyhoo, she immediately walked right over to the French doors, sat down and stared at them. They were both closed and the light was off. Now, her food container is stored in this room as well, and she knows that, so I wasn't surprised she went there. I went and sat back down with my back to the doors to finish my work. About a minute later, she came darting under my chair. Correction, she FLEW under my chair. I stood up and was like "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM DOG?" and as I did I turned to see that one of the French doors was now open. It was open about a foot. This was not good.

I stood there frozen for a second because I had personally closed the doors myself a few hours earlier when I had to go in there to fill up her food bowl. Yes, that means her food is in that room so yes, the dog would want to get in there and would probably push the door open herself and has when the door is already ajar. This is all true. However, when the door is latched shut, you have to turn the knob really hard to open it because it's an old door AND it makes a rattle when you turn the knob. You don't go in this room quietly. Furthermore, had she been able to get in, she would have just gone in and snooped around for rogue kibbles, but instead she was cowering under my chair like we were in the throws of an epic thunderstorm. I went into the office, turned on the light and told the air to "GET THE EFF OUT OF MY HOUSE." I slammed the doors shut and walked back to the table to finish my work, proud that I had properly yelled at nothing. I only sat for about a minute before I was overcome with fear. Yes people, real fear. I turned around and I swear that I felt like someone or something was in that room looking at me through the door. It was so overwhelming and scary that I called Jeff and was CRYING on the phone to him (no I had not been drinking. Ok yes, I had ONE pumpkin beer but I'm not that cheap of a date and this shizz was real.) He was like "are you joking?" when I demanded he come home but I was NOT JOKING and was now standing in the corner clutching the phone crying and unable to turn my back on the room. This sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was TERRIFIED and knew that if he wasn't coming home, I was scooping up the sleeping kid and the dog and getting in the car. I could not stay there by myself any longer.

I stayed on the phone with him until he pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, asking "where are you now?" about every 6 seconds. He was so sweet and talked to me the whole time, giving me a play by play of his trip home. I cannot explain it other than I felt this huge surge of fear and I couldn't stop crying and I am not joking when I say I felt like the room was staring at me. When he walked in, I was so relieved and as quickly as I felt scared, I felt calm again. Jeff was not thrilled that I made him come back because he didn't get to do anything he left to do, but I am so glad my husband knows his wife is insane and will come home when I'm scared that the ghost that he doesn't believe in is going to get me.


Kait said...

This ghost of yours scares the crap out of me and I'm not even living it.

Connie said...

Maybe you should make a cake for the ghost. He or she is getting jealous watching you make all these awesome cakes and always forgetting him or her.