Haunted House

She probably didn't know photos of this would end up on the internet, but here's the funniest Thanksgiving story ever. Okay, maybe not THE funniest, but it's pretty good.

This year, my family celebrated Thanksgiving at Jasmine Hill, an old plantation home in Mississippi that my father's family owns. Rumor is the place is haunted. The first night we were all there, my dad and a couple others thought they heard something in the middle of the night. Dad said it sounded like chains dragging on the wood floor. He got out of bed to see what it was, but it was gone by the time he got there.

The second night, a few more said they heard the same noise in the middle of the night. Again, whatever it was had disappeared by the time anyone made it out of bed to check things out.

The last night of our stay, I woke up around 3:00am hearing all kinds of racket going up and down the stairs, and I'm thinking, "No way a ghost makes that much noise." So I get out of bed to see what's going on. By the time I make it to the stairs, I hear my dad and my aunt Cheryl laughing. Here's what we found at the bottom of the stairs:

My grandmother, wearing a white nightgown over her clothes, underpants on her head, and dragging a chain attached to a length of rope behind her. It was hilarious. She must've wanted to get caught that last night. If she'd done it the same as every other night, she probably would've gotten away with it. Anyway, it's a good story to tell, and it was definitely memorable. If he didn't before, John definitely thinks my family's crazy now.