Who the hell is Annie?

Sometimes having a conversation with my little ones can be hilarious.  Other times it can be terrifying.  Kids can be more terrifying than a good scary movie, because when it comes to ghost stories, kids can sell it WAAAAY better.


I will never forget when my twins were infants and we brought them home from the hospital.  We used to live in a Tri-level house in Dublin Ohio.  It was a GREAT little house, perfect for our little family.  After the twins were born, and then the subsequent son resulting from too much time in bed due to the flu came along, it shrank in size.  We LOVED this house.  Luuuuuuved it.  We loved our neighborhood, our neighbors, and the layout.  It was a great house for three people.  Not such a great house for six.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

 When we first moved in to this house, BK (before kids), we swore the place had a ghost.  We would notice little things moving, doors closing, and hear creaks like footsteps from upstairs.  Normal old house kind of things.  However, the dog would just stare up to the top level and growl from time to time. This was unnerving. And the Admiral would swear that the rocking chair would rock all by itself when he was home alone.  Nothing too freaky but stuff we would just chalk up to "our ghost". 

Fast forward to the week I brought home Thumbelina and Mini Me.  As infants, they would stare at this place on the wall every time I would sit on the couch with them, or change their diaper there.  The same spot, every time,  both of them.  The spot was on the wall that backed up to the top level.  The Admiral would say, "Oh, our ghost must be there.  Kids have that sense you know."  So it was a running joke. Anything unexplained was the ghost. 

I don't think the ghost thought this was funny. 

My oldest son did not like his closet door open when he would sleep, so he would always close it.  So I asked him, mind you he is 8 at this time, "why do you have to have the closet door shut? "

"I don't like the scary guy that is in there."  (sound of record needle screeching)  Wha-WHAT?  What scary guy is in my kids closet??? 

"What do you mean baby, there is no one in there.  You are just seeing shadows."

"No mommy, there is a guy in there. If I keep the door shut he doesn't come out."  HOLY SCHMIDT!  WHAT?!?!?!  I calmly tell my precious boy that it may look like it, but there really is no one in there and he is just seeing shadows.  As I am telling him this, I am really just telling MYSELF this, because HOLY CRAP  am I freaked out.  But now I can't sleep, because I am afraid of a man coming out of my closet, and unless that man is Ryan Reynolds, we have a serious problem. 

(Side note, I do not believe in ghosts per say, but I do have a very very overactive imagination that does things to me sometimes. I tend to read a lot of spooky stories, and watch zombie movies and shows.)

So, nothing else besides the normal freaky crap ever happens at the old house after that.  I think that the holy water, crosses, and threatening the non-existant scary man in the closet of bringing in of an old priest and a young priest made him keep himself out of our daily life.  I don't think left he dog alone though, because our dog is a giant wuss, and quite frankly it is fun to mess with him.  If I were a ghost, I would mess with him daily.  Heck, I am NOT a ghost and I mess with him daily.  And dog lovers out there, do not give me dirty looks or messages, this dog is spoiled rotten, does nothing to earn his keep, and quite frankly messing with him is the only thing he is really good for.  But that is a whole other post. 

So now we are in our new house.  It is brand new, built by us, has no squeeky floors, and no doors that shut all on their own. Peaceful and quiet.  Lovely. 

...Until the conversation I had with Mini Me last night. 
"Did you have a good day today baby?"

"Yes mommy.  I had a fun day.  After nap (sidenote, I split the twins up for nap or they party and don't sleep), I woke up and played with Annie in my closet."

"You played with who?"

"Annie, in my closet.  We had a tea party.  We were princesses."

Smiling, I think to myself, oh, that is so sweet, she has an imaginary friend!  How cute is that?  "Aww, did you make up a friend?  Did you pretend you have a friend Annie?"

"No, she is the girl that lives in my closet.  She and I were princesses together."  (insert music from the movie Psycho....")