My mother-in-law told me this morning about when she lived in a haunted house,

"It’s when I lived with my Uncle Jim.  There was an old drunk who died at that house after a night of drinking.  He’d come home every night at the same time and go upstairs to his room to pass out.  After he died my uncle bought the house.  Every night at midnight, my uncle’s bedroom door would open and then we’d hear footsteps going up the stairs.  Even after he died, he still came home drunk to go to bed!"

I admit that while touring with potential buyers, I’ve walked into houses that stop me in my tracks. I’ve been lucky to have never seen a face in the window, but I wonder what it would be like to catch one on film.  Like this.

When I’m gone, I think I’d like to come back and haunt people.  A jolly, laughing ghost.