Well, to help the stories along I have another set of stories from a different house. This was when I was much, much younger (I believe when I was 8 or 9). While we had a few weird things happen (stuff moved, or stuff fell over) my mom always chalked it up to forgetfulness or the house settling. One summer later and she was a believer. The first thing that happened was my parents decided to repaint all the walls (both parents being heavy smokers the walls were turning yellow). They bought two 10 gallon buckets of paint. They used up the first and almost painted everything but were resigned to crack open the 2nd bucket... only it was no longer in the garage. My dad took everything in the garage out (small single car garage) and still could not find it. So, they bought a 5 gallon jug and finished. Flash forward 2 weeks and I went out in the garage and guess what was sitting right in the middle. The unopened yet only half full bucket of paint. Now these were the early plastic buckets that you had to cut the sides of the lid to open, and the sides were not cut yet half the paint was missing. About 2 months later my dog gave birth to a litter under the house. Since I was the only one small enough to fit, guess who got puppy retrieval duty? While under there I noticed the entire bottom of the house was white. I asked my mom why someone did that. She poked her head under there and that was one of the few times when I was younger that I heard my mom cuss. We found where the paint went.
The second thing, same summer, that happened really sealed the deal with my mom. Since I was able to tie my own shoes I was taught to take them off and place them at the foot of my bed. This way I knew where they were. Well right before school my mom bought me a new pair of shoes. Two days later I went to get up and my shoes were missing. My mom helped me look but we didn't find them. So, I ended up starting school with my old pair. Well right before my mom was going to buy me a new pair we walked in from running errands and my shoes were sitting in the middle of the living room, sitting together with the laces tied. My mom woke up my dad and asked if he had found them, he said no and was just as surprised to see them in the living room.
From that summer on my mom believed in ghosts, as did I.
The second thing, same summer, that happened really sealed the deal with my mom. Since I was able to tie my own shoes I was taught to take them off and place them at the foot of my bed. This way I knew where they were. Well right before school my mom bought me a new pair of shoes. Two days later I went to get up and my shoes were missing. My mom helped me look but we didn't find them. So, I ended up starting school with my old pair. Well right before my mom was going to buy me a new pair we walked in from running errands and my shoes were sitting in the middle of the living room, sitting together with the laces tied. My mom woke up my dad and asked if he had found them, he said no and was just as surprised to see them in the living room.
From that summer on my mom believed in ghosts, as did I.
