Living with a Ghost

I think I live with a ghost. Why do I think that? I sat down on the couch last night after bath time and bedtime and pulled a soup ladle out from under the cushion. I grabbed the blanket on the back of the couch and out fell a plastic shovel. As odd as those things were I went to the kitchen and found half of the drawers pulled out, some green beans in the fridge, still in the can, the UN opened can. I put those in the pantry and found shredded cheese, yes, from the cold section in the store. As you can see, I may live with a ghost!

On second thought, I went to the grocery and my daughter helped me unload the bags, then she helped me make supper and played in her room. Maybe I don't live with a ghost after all.