How are you?
I’m ok. Let’s see, what’s new with me…
Um, my earring holes closed up, that was a bloody realization in the middle of Anthropology (pssst, I can only fit in their earrings).
I finally broke down and bought a pair of Toms. They’re grey. It’s like I’m walking around in feet envelopes.
I went into Auto Zone by myself and bought new windshield wiper blades.
Ummm. Mum. Mum. Mummmm.
Oh, and I walked into my bedroom to find Gigi talking to dead people on my bed. Sorry, not talking, whispering, which makes it less creepy and more, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK AM I PARANORMAL ACTIVITY RIGHT NOW!?
Each of my kids have gifts, like, not be be all braggy or anything, but they do.
Jude has a photographic memory for movie dates. He can tell you, with no margin of error, what date a movie is released, what date he saw a particular movie, and what he ate at each showing. It’s like having Movie Phone in your house following you around, telling you you look pretty today and asking you to see the new Adam Sandler movie, Hotel Transylvania, on September 28th.
At first, Wyatt was super good at making the punchline of every joke either poop or weiners. I was like, completely enamored with him, my little dirty comedian. But then he had to go and get all obsessive with Legos, and now, much like the kids who stack cups for sport, he can recreate almost anything in Legos in a matter of minutes. No directions or help, he can just see a structure and imitate it.
Up until she spent the last few days morphing into Haley Joel Osment, Gigi has been my performer. She is without fear or shame, which is amazing. She can do all the dances from Annie, sing almost every song from Wizard of Oz, and recite entire monologues from The Labyrinth.
You have no power of me.
And now, she’s whispering, low and quite, to entire rooms fulls of nobody, and I would be lying if I didn’t say, it’s freaking me out. I mean, I’d like to think there are ghosts. Nice ones. People I loved that died and follow my life around when I’m not in the bathroom or trying on jeggings without underwear at Old Navy (yeah, it’s me. I’m why you wash new clothes before you wear them, it’s like I’m having unprotected sex with all of you).
At first, I thought maybe it’s an imaginary friend thing, but when she starts every conversation with What’s your name? and Why are you here?, I think the worst, because I had an invisible friend, he was always the same guy, I knew everything about him, and I just assumed he was always around because he didn’t have a job. Incidentally, friends aren’t imaginary if everyone can see them, and also, if it’s your Uncle Jay and he’s sleeping on your couch.
Andy swears they didn’t watch scary movies while I was gone, and honestly, I believe him because he has PTSD from watching House of 1000 Corpses with me and finding himself in a puddle of my own hot piss.
Is Gigi talking to ghosts in my bedroom? I have no idea.
But, I don’t wanna get naked in there anymore, and the next time I have sex, I’m gonna have to be all, yeah, that slappy sound is totally normal and yes, it’s supposed to look like that.
UPDATE: So, I asked Gigi who she was whispering to, and she was all, I don’t know who they are mommy, which is basically how Poltergeist happened.