We have had some paranormal activities Chez Johnson that are wreaking all sorts of havoc and sending a shiver down my spine.
Our ghost first put holes near the top of our blinds. Then, the florescent light cover in our kitchen not only crashed to the ground but these spirits somehow carried it all the way to the garbage can outside. And don’t get me started on the jar of peanut butter that floated to the basement, the most minor of the trespasses but still a head-scratcher.
All of these situations have been met with the doe-eyed innocence of our kids. “Mom, I have no idea how that happened” or “maybe it was Fat Kitty,” which makes me seriously worry about their power of persuasion if they’re trying to convince me that our obese, declawed cat could become airborne (though peanut butter might be a good motivator).
To their credit, they haven’t turned each other in but when you’re only one of two siblings, the odds are not ever in your favor. We’ve repeatedly trying to instill within them that lying is worse than the actual crime but to no avail.
I have yet to catch them red-handed but got a kick out of toddler Jack’s blue-faced lie about the free cupcake he’d swiped in a celebration for the New York Giants.
The good news is that we are making some progress. I’m not sure about the topic in my daughter’s Sunday School class last week but she finally confessed to her teacher, “YES, IT WAS I WHO TOOK THE PEANUT BUTTER TO THE BASEMENT AND ATE DIRECTLY OUT OF IT WITHOUT A SPOON.”
If only the trespasses of my little spirits could always remain so innocent.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 