Let me preface this post by telling you that Bear thinks our house is haunted. He’s talked about this for a while, and I am sure it’s not helping matters that we let him watch My Ghost Story on A&E. Yeah…I get the gold star for questionable parenting choices sometimes.
Last night, my husband and I were jolted awake by the sound of our bedroom door rattling…loudly. The door was locked, and it literally sounded as if someone was on the other side of the door, trying to get in. I was instantly convinced that a bogeyman had broken into the house, and my heart pounded desperately. My second thought was that one of the kids had been shaking the door, because they don’t know the meaning of the word “knock.” I was prepared to either fight off the bogeyman with a baseball bat, or explain to my kids in no uncertain terms that shaking the door at 3:00 AM was not in their best interests.
My husband jumped up and went to investigate…and found absolutely nothing. We racked our brains as to what could have caused the rattling door.
Obviously, it was neither an intruder nor a wayward child, and we were both severely freaked out. I could find no rational explanation for what could make the door rattle all by itself. Maybe Bear was right and our house really was haunted…
We went back to sleep, and as I drifted off, I wondered if this was a problem that would require copious amounts of holy water and that little old lady from Poltergeist.
Weeeellll, guess what I found out when I woke up this morning:
See that blue box? That’s a freaking EARTHQUAKE!
Of all the possible explanations for the mysterious rattling door, I never would have guessed earthquake…this is Louisiana for cripes sake!
So, the good news is that we don’t need a voodoo priestess.