I Do Believe in Ghosts

This morning John asked me to wash a load of laundry because he was out of winter socks.  Some people might find it shocking that he is incapable of Sockswashing clothes himself, but that part of the statement didn’t faze me a bit.  I have accepted the fact that he is domestically challenged and will probably never progress beyond doing an occasional load of dishes or an intermittent running of the vacuum cleaner.  Women statistically outlive men so he has pretty good odds that he will never have to live independently anyway so it’s all good for now.  The thing that surprised me was his claim that he was out of winter socks because I was pretty certain he wasn’t.  I did a little investigating and quickly solved the mystery.  It was just as I feared; we must have a ghost.

I had long suspected that our house was inhabited by a supernatural being for a couple of reasons.  The first indication our domicile was haunted was conversations John would swear we had that never actually happened.  He would try to hold me accountable for things I never said.  The only explanation for these phantom communications he insisted had occurred was that a specter of some sort must be imitating my voice and saying these things I never uttered.  I had even threatened to start recording all of our conversations to prove I wasn’t saying the things he claimed, but a metaphysical presence explained everything, especially when John could never recall when or where these conversations occurred.  The vision of a sinister apparition whispering falsehoods in his ear sent a chill down my spine.

The second reason I believed we shared our residence with an incorporeal being was the frequency with which things disappeared from the places we left them.  Everything from checks to car titles to grocery lists have mysteriously vanished from where they should have been.  Sometimes the missing items reappeared in odd places.  Sometimes they were never seen again. (Cue spooky music.)

When I went looking for the clean socks that I knew had to be around somewhere, there were only two places to begin looking:  the laundry drying racks and the top of John’s dresser.  I wash and fold his clothes, but putting them in the proper drawers is his responsibility. That’s why the top of the dresser was the logical place to look.  I was really puzzled when neither spot yielded any socks so I decided to take a gamble and look in his sock drawer.  My hands were shaking as I slowly peered into the recesses of the dark drawer, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the tangible evidence of paranormal activity.  HIS SOCKS WERE IN HIS DRAWER.  I recoiled in shock, and ran outside to tell John about my unearthly discovery.  He asked which drawer the socks were in, and breathlessly I told him they were in the top left drawer.  His reply was almost as shocking as the discovery.  He told me the left drawer was his summer sock drawer and the middle drawer was his winter sock drawer so that’s the only place he looked.  I’m sure the ghost and I were both incredulous to learn that he has a summer AND winter sock drawer since he rarely puts socks in either one.  If he sticks to that story, I won’t know whether to call Ghostbusters or MythBusters.

Leave a Reply

Subscribe to RSS feed