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28 February 2009 @ 05:30 pm
There is an amorous ghost in my house.  
He's either lusty or lonely, I haven't decided yet. But apparently he was the surprise in the center of a Valentine's gift.

See, my mom's an elementary school teacher. For Valentine's this year, a couple of students gave her balloons, so she came home with three metallic mylar balloons in addition to cards and boxes of cheap candy. (Strange but true: she got more V-Day gifts from her students than Christmas presents. That's definitely not the norm.) One's shaped like a rose, one's bright red, and the other might be heart-shaped. Three shiny red balloons clipped together with a clothespin into a bunch.

So she puts the balloons by her computer. They're filled with helium, so they are still airborne. At first I thought she had tied them to something because they're just staying in the corner, but upon closer inspection they're just hovering the corner day after day, collecting dust. We were rather amazed at their staying power - on Wednesday night, 11 days after Mom received the balloons, they were still floating in the air by her computer. They hadn't lost more than 2-3 inches of gravity defiance.

On Thursday Mom went to a bluegrass festival, so no one sat at her computer that night. When I went to bed around midnight, the balloons were still floating next to her computer, same as they'd done for nearly two weeks.

When I woke up the next morning, the balloons were in my doorway on the second floor of the house. "Dad must have brought these up. That's weird. He knows they were Mom's, so why'd he give 'em to me?" I said. Then I grabbed the ribbons (had to reach because the balloons were still floating up by the ceiling) and carried the balloons to my mother's upstairs office. If Dad didn't want them upstairs anymore, better to put the balloons there where they can't annoy him. I go downstairs for breakfast.

After eating, I go to my room and close my door, and start reading for an hour or so. I reemerge so I can take a shower, and bam! The balloons are in my doorway again. It must have drifted over, although I'm not sure quite how, as the air doesn't really circulate in an easy path between the office and my room. I don't have time to contemplate it, because I have to rush off to work.

I get home around 8:30, and spend the rest of the evening downstairs baking (cupcakes! yum!) and playing on my computer. Dad gets home around 11pm, and goes to his office to put his briefcase away as he always does.

"Did you put these balloons in my office?" he calls.

"What?" I wander out to the hallway as he emerges from his office with the V-Day balloons. "No, I put them in MOM'S office after you put them in my doorway this morning."

"I didn't put the balloons in your doorway."

So they got there on their own???? To get to my room from my mom's computer, the balloons (which had never moved from my mom's desk in the previous two weeks) would have to float out of the living room, down a short hall, up a flight of stairs, and into my doorway. Not impossible, but rather odd. However, my dad's office is on the ground floor at the end of a different hallway. To get into his office, the balloons (which are filled with helium and therefore cling to the ceiling) would have to drop back down twenty feet, find their way into the correct hallway, and drift all the way into his office. That's just weird. In fact, I think it's impossible.

Therefore, I'm calling ghost. Some poor lost soul haunts my mother's Valentine's Day balloons, and it's lonely. While my mom was home it was OK, because every night she would go over to her desk, boot up her computer, and sit there for several hours and keep the balloon-ghost company. However, since she's been gone there's been no one keeping the ghost company. So it wandered up to my room, but I rejected the balloons by moving them to a different room. Twice. So the poor ghost did the only other thing it could do - drifted down to my father's office so it could spend the empty evenings with him.

Well, Dad was having none of it. He took the balloons and tied them down to our staircase railing, so no more free floating for the ghost. It's trapped now - at least until Mom comes home.
 
 
 
jeanniejeannietran on March 1st, 2009 02:31 am (UTC)
Makes sense. Remember when they were drifting towards us on Thursday? The ghost wanted to hang out.