… going to yell at the “kids” to stop running up and down the stairs to the second floor, an unmistakable sound, and find all of them, except DS1 who works overnight and was sleeping, standing in the living room staring in the direction of said stairs. As I entered the living room the sound stopped. I stood in the doorway, looking at them and listening.
“Obviously, you three weren’t running on the stairs.”
“Mom, no one was on them. We were here on the couch watching a video.”
A video on the TV is obviously paused. From the kids placement it looks as if they stood up from where each was sitting. I clearly heard my eldest son, whose room is above the living room, get out of bed, walk across the floor and down the stairs. It was obvious he had just woken up.
“Really, guys?! I’d finally fell asleep. You woke me up with all the noise.”
“It wasn’t us!”
I told him that the running was going until I entered the room and his siblings were in my line of sight.
*insert Twilight Zone theme here*
No, really. He began doing the Twilight Zone music. He said, ticked off, “Whatever it is, knock it off so I can sleep.” He went back to bed.
One son said, “It’d be funny if whatever it was fell through the weak stair.”
Yeah, we’re not an easily scared or impressed family. Or my children are a bit jaded towards odd happenings after a nasty scare. We’ve been dealing with this stuff off and on for years. One day I’ll write about the $5 plastic Wal-mart clock that had a fetish for my feet.