Thursday, August 5, 2010

The Ghost Hunters

The two Ghost Hunters went down to the basement with a flashlight and a voice recorder.  The flashlight was a big industrial job, the kind with the large square battery that, being a guy, I should probably be able to describe in more detail.  The voice recorder came from a Hot Wheels playset. 

After a couple minutes they came back upstairs and called out to their younger siblings, who came running.  The Ghost Hunters pressed play. The sound of static came from the recorder, then knocking.

"Do you hear that?" the Ghost Hunters asked.

"Yes!" The younger kids could hardly contain their excitement.  I almost expected to find pee puddles on the floor.

"That's a ghost," the Ghost Hunters said with authority.  "You stay here," they cautioned the younger kids and then took their equipment back down to the basement.

When they returned, the youngsters gathered round and listened to the new recording.  The ever-present static was followed by knocking again, then a voice.  "Get out of my house," it said.

The giggles that followed told tale of excitement laced with fear.  The younger kids waited while the Ghost Hunters descended to the basement one more time, again coming up with a new recording of static, knocking, and voices.  This time the message was, "Get out of my house or I will kill you."

This was my cue to take action, because that's the kind of father I am.  After all, it disrupts my sleep when the kids come into our bedroom in the middle of the night to tell their mom they had a nightmare. 

The Ghost Hunters were already preparing for another mission.  "Let's go in here this time," they said, opening the pantry door.

"That's fine.  Just don't go in the Bat Cave.  You might not ever come out," I said, because that's the kind of father I am.  (NOTE: The Bat Cave is the closet under the stairs.)

Undaunted by the chance they could disappear forever, the Ghost Hunters abandoned the pantry and walked to the Bat Cave.  They opened the door.  I got off the couch and quietly walked over to the wall.  On the other side of the wall was the interior of the Bat Cave, and inside it, the Ghost Hunters.  I heard the door close.  Then I banged like hell on the wall, loud and fast.

The door opened so fast a sonic boom shook the house and the Ghost Hunters came out in a blur.  The screams were incredible.  I laughed so hard I again felt the need to check the floor for pee puddles.

I haven't seen or heard a ghost since. 

9 comments:

jbchicoine said...

So, did you find any pee puddles?

You can always get me giggling :)

Bane of Anubis said...

Should have locked those inquisitive hunters in, I say. What...? CPS? Whatever....

Actually, these stories kind of give me a hankering for kids... I need to tell my brother to hurry up so I can be the grumpy uncle.

Susan Kaye Quinn said...

OH MAN. I wish I was that cool. Actually, that's the kind of thing that goes on whenever I leave the house. :)

Davin Malasarn said...

I wish I were a mop salesman in your neighborhood.

Rick Daley said...

Scaring the kids was the most fun I've had in moths. I don't know what that says about me, nor do I care.

@ Bridget- Yep, but I blamed it on the dog.

@ Bane- Unclehood is great because you can send them back home.

@ Sue- Just go for it some time. I bet you have it in you ;-)

@ Davin- Start a company, I'll keep you in business!

WeaselMomma said...

Classic parental fun. I like it.

Eric said...

ROFL!! That is hilarious. I can clearly see it. You haven't done your job if you haven't scared your kids. That's in the Dad handbook.

Rick Daley said...

Eric- It's even better when the scare is an exercise in one-upmanship. Little buggers never saw it coming.

Anita said...

I want to be a kid again and move into your house!