Uncle Charlie strikes again

Our family has some friendly ghosts. If you don't believe, you can skip today's post, because I not only believe, I embrace it.

Our ghosts started when my great Uncle Charlie passed away when I was in first or second grade. A few months after he'd passed, my mom was home alone, preparing dinner (one of Charlie's favorites-Marinara and Meatballs). She heard someone at the door and said "Come on in!", as mom was always glad for company.

She looked out into the living room from the kitchen and the front door was open. On the floor was a gray fedora with a jaunty little white and red feather in it. charlie's hat, and it was his custom to throw his hat in the door to see if he was welcome. She said, "It's okay, Charlie, you're welcome in" before realizing he was no longer with us.

After that day, from time to time, Charlie would bless various members of the family with his presence. The smell of coffee in the car, music where none was playing but Charlie's usual MO was the same as he'd had in life: prankster. He'd continued to hide stuff from people even after he had crossed over. This most frequently occurred with food, but if it was something you needed, Charlie would take it.

I grew up with this, and with the understanding that you had to tell Charlie it wasn't funny anymore-any one of us would say "Okay, Charlie, GIVE IT UP!" Less than a minute later, the item you desired would be in plain sight where it hadn't been moments before. Now, none of it materialized in front of you, but if you had nothing on the dash of your car and looked away, there would be the parking lot pass you'd sworn you had put in the visor and couldn't find.

I was very fortunate that I married into a family that understood and had their own ghosts that would come to visit. We've seen Nancy several times and my Dad likes to play with the toys-especially if they don't have batteries or are sitting off by themselves.

Recently, I went into the bathroom to color my hair. The gray is quite noticeable on shorter hair. Thanks to one of my sisters, I've made it a habit to buy two packages of my Wella color at a time, which I'd done the last time I visited the beauty supply. Now that the hair is short, I only need a half bottle per coloring. When not in use, the bottles of color and Grey Magic go in the vanity drawer and the rest of the coloring supplies under the sink.

I found my developer, gloves, brush and comb, but no color. I tore that drawer apart, looked all over the counter and could not find either the half full or unopened bottle. Over the next two weeks, I half heartedly looked and thought I was imagining that I'd only used one application or that I'd purchased two bottles.

Yesterday, I stopped at the beauty supply on the way home and picked up two more bottles of coloring. They've got a frequent shopper card and I renewed it the last time after letting it expire. I looked at that sticker, confused. I *knew* I'd purchased coloring while I was on leave and that I hadn't colored since. Hmmmm.

Tonight, I walked into the bathroom with the bag containing two bottles of Wella (a different shade, so no confusion there) and a bottle of Grey Magic. I put them down on the counter:RIGHT NEXT TO THE BOTTLE THAT WASN'T THERE WHEN I BRUSHED MY TEETH THIS MORNING! It was the half opened bottle and then in the drawer was the unopened package.

It's not funny, Uncle Charlie!


Twinkie said…
I believe ya!
Hello this is Beamer. Again something I can most certainly relate to, in a very big way. Sounds like you have a full schedule on your hands and Uncle Charlie needs to back off for a while.


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