I'm Calling Her Grandma Ghost or G.G. for Short

We have a ghost.

I’m totally down with having a ghost. I mean, it’s like the next best thing to having a pool, right?

I know, I know. It’s obviously not as cool as a vampire. I WISH!

The ghoul hierarchy being what it is: Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts; I think top 3 is pretty good.

Weird things started happening a few months ago; things that are clearly the work of the supernatural.

Case in point: last week I went up to get Ella. She was squished into the corner of her crib, like she always is, but this time the music on her mobile was playing.

She was still dead asleep. Her little pudgy-wudgey arms and legs could not have reached over to the far side of her crib to accidentally turn it on. And the remote has been out of batteries for some time (us being the lazy parents that we are). This has happened a few times.

Obviously, work of a ghost.

Secondly, Ella is a talker, like most 9 month olds

She jabbers away. You just know she’s giving you some good stock tip or a new healthy recipe she learned through the endless hours of Food Network we subject her to.

(If only we could understand her! We’d be rich AND healthy! )

But she’s taken to looking up to the ceiling and jabbering like she’s talking TO someone. It’s kind of creepy, really. She stares right up at the ceiling and relays all of her get rich quick schemes.

Obviously.

The husband really doesn’t want to encourage this ghost talk, so he likes to tell me that the noises I hear is just the house ‘settling’.

Fine, Mark.

I guess the ‘settling’ sounds EXACTLY like someone is walking down our stairs? And the house knows which floor boards make the “I’m walking across the room RIGHT NOW” sounds?

We either have a really smart house or a ghost.

Clearly Mark is wrong. Sorry, babe.

I might be more upset about this were it just some strange spirit talking to my baby.

But I know who it is.

The people that we bought the house from casually mentioned that they had moved in Grandma a few years before selling, in the bedroom right next to Ella’s.

Grandma wasn’t around by the time we bought the house. The bedroom had been turned into a sewing room.

I’m just saying.

Clearly, it’s a kind, loving ghost. I mean, only a Grandma would turn on the mobile and jabber to a 9 month old.

And we're keeping her, no matter what Mark says. Imagine the resale value!

I just wish we could get her to babysit.