#tpconfessions, week 5!

It’s Friday and you know what that means? It is time for #tpconfessions, week 5! Come on, friends, play along! I want to hear your confessions, too. Leave a comment here or on our Facebook page. Play along on social media by using the hashtag #tpconfessions. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve got to say!

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This week is a special Father’s Day edition of #tpconfessions. I asked my husband to spill the dirt on me – what irks him, what drives him crazy, what makes him mad at me. He’s got some doozies for you!

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In our kitchen, we converted one of our cabinets to have pull out trash cans. There are two trash cans in the cabinet, and both come out when you pull on the handle. Andrea will take both bags of trash out, but she’ll only put one trash bag in the bin – she leaves the other empty. What’s up with that? It drives me insane.

In my defense, my reasoning for doing this is to make myself take the trash out more often. Tiny baby = smelly diapers. I put one bag in to remind myself to take the trash out daily.

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Every single night Andrea waits until I put my pajamas on and get settled in the bed – and then she asks me to go downstairs and get her a glass of water. Or her Kindle. Or a snack. She asks for something, every single night.

I don’t do this every single night. But I do cop to doing it most nights.

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Andrea never fills her car up with gas. Conveniently, she always needs gas when I’m driving her car.

Hey now! Right back at you! It drives me insane when you drive my car and when I get in it the next morning the gas light is on. Don’t drive my car and not fill it up!

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Andrea puts on deodorant like a monkey.

Ha! I do! I use my right hand to do my left armpit, but my right armpit I just bend my right hand down and apply.

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Andrea leaves the kitchen cabinets open. At least one cabinet is open in our kitchen at all times.

Ok, I’ve got a story behind this one…

When I was in graduate school at the College of Charleston, I worked as a Residence Hall Director in Berry Residence Hall. The building was historic, and rumor has it that it once housed an orphanage. Apparently in the 1800s there was a fire and many children died. Berry has always been rumored to be haunted. I worked in a different dorm the year before, and my coworker who lived there always talked about her residents complaining about their lights turning on and off, radios turning on unexpectedly, doors slamming, etc. I never believed any of it.

Until I moved in…

I was there just a few weeks when I started noticing weird happenings. I’d wake up in the morning and my cabinets would be open when I knew they were shut the night before. This happened almost nightly. I wasn’t thrilled about it but it seemed kind of harmless so I just prayed to Jesus every night and let it go.

One night I woke up in the middle of the night. My room was freezing cold and I KNEW, I just knew that if I turned over I would see someone standing to the side of my bed. I mean I have never been so certain of anything in my life. So I did what any logical person would do – I shut my eyes and prayed for the ghost to leave. About 10 minutes later, the feeling went away and the temperature returned to normal, and I turned over. There was nothing there, but my door was open – and I had shut it before I went to bed.

THEN…

During Christmas break, my co-RHD and I continued to live in the building. All the students were of course gone home and we were the only ones in residence. On Friday night we were both in our apartments (separately – they were located across the hall from one another) when we heard noises on the floor above us. We both ran out of our apartments at the same time and screamed “did you hear that?!” Doors were slamming on the floor above us – we could hear them opening and shutting one right after another as if someone was going down the hall in a row. Then we heard footsteps running in the hallway. Let me tell you – I’ve never been so scared in my life. I no joke peed my pants. I was so scared I peed my pants. I’m admitting on the Internet that I peed my pants. We huddled in the entrance in abject terror while we waited on Public Safety to arrive. They searched the entire building and found no one.

After that I had a come to Jesus conversation with the ghosts. I felt ridiculous, but I went into my apartment, lit some candles, and informed the ghosts that they could not continue their shenanigans. Haunt the girls who gave me grief about confiscating their alcohol, but leave me alone. From that point on I prayed every night not to see a ghost, and while my cabinets continued to open, I never did hear or see anything ever again. Thank goodness.

Anywhoodle, I think I leave the cabinets open unconsciously. I mean, if I do it a ghost can’t, right?

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What are your confession this week?

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