1) We signed the contract and placed a deposit on a kitchen remodel yesterday! Sadness Kitchen of Bland Blahness will soon be no more, although it only JUST occurred to us that oh, this means we have to pack up everything in the kitchen AGAIN and live out of boxes and on crappy takeout food AGAIN. Pfft.
NOTE: We are not doing any of it ourselves, nope nope nope sirree, other than a modest project of relocating some of the cabinets to the garage. This hopefully means the remodel go mostly smoothly, with only about a 75% chance of disaster, like us causing the back wall of the garage* to collapse in on the laundry room.
The thing I am MOST looking forward to, actually, is replacing the floor tile, which extends from the kitchen all the way to the front door, and is similarly blah but pretty cracked up in places, and also possessed by a vengeful rage spirit from an early 2000s remake of a J-horror movie starring Buffy the Vampire Slayer. FACT.
On our very first night in the new house (during which we MAY or MAY NOT have been residing there 100% legally), I woke up super thirsty and decided to head down to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Right at the kitchen entrance, a tile creaked. And it sounded like this.
No, seriously. EXACTLY LIKE THIS.
I jumped out of my skin and scurried back to bed.
For DAYS I kept forgetting about it and startling the hell out of myself whenever I stepped on the Haunted Floor Tile, and then eventually figured out how to avoid it. I now enter the kitchen as close to the pantry as possible, and then make a hard left past the eat-in area. I do not care for the Haunted Floor Tile.
(For the record, during one of our in-home remodel estimates, I specifically requested that special care be taken with the sub-flooring in that threshold area because "it sounds like the fucking death rattle from The Grudge." I demonstrated, and the guy's face went pale and his eyes bugged out and he was like, "HOLY SHIT IT TOTALLY DOES.")
*More on the garage in Thing #2, which is directly below this very sentence, FYI.
2) We also thought we had a Haunted Garage Door for the first few days, or possibly a spy from the relocation company, which might have been worse because REASONS. We would come home and one garage door would randomly be up. We'd creep inside to make sure there wasn't a home invader or a lawyer waiting to sue the shit out of us, then determine everything was clear and close the door.
Then while locking up before bed we'd discover it was up again. Um. Please stop doing that, door.
We figured something was just malfunctioning with it until one of our neighbors (two doors down on the cul de sac, to be exact) stopped by to introduce herself, and also to apologize because she just got a new car and for some reason the garage door remote was opening our garage instead of hers. She was taking it back to get re-programmed and was super sorry for the inconvenience/weirding out.
Mystery solved! But all is not well with Me vs. Our Garage, because I am still genuinely terrified of it. Or more specifically, of getting trapped inside it with a late 90s slasher villain dressed in a ghostface costume. TRUE STORY.
I cannot help it. It's possibly even more irrational than the thing with the volcanoes, but whenever I go out to the garage I get mildly freaked out over the possibility of getting stuck. The door to the garage won't stay open unless you physically prop it, and locks from the inside. So a simple trip to grab something from the extra/beverage fridge or haul out an empty box means the door is going to slam shut behind you...and a serial killer could totally logistically have locked the door without you knowing and then you turn around and he's blocking the door opening button things so NOW WHAT.
This is the exact scenario my brain jumps to, every time.
Our garage does not have a pet door, at least. So I would probably just end up stabbed. I should probably hide some weapons or keep shovels in several easily accessible areas.
3) And finally, Ike has started sleepwalking. We regularly find him sound asleep on the landing outside our bedroom, or on the floor of one of his brothers' rooms, and when we wake him up he's confused and has no idea how he got there. Jason thinks it's just because he's not used to sleeping alone and is looking for company, but I know better because I watched every single Paranormal Activity movie.
Yeah it's all cute and adorable until the new kitchen cabinets start OPENING UP BY THEMSELVES.
So I guess the moral to this story? list? rambling stack o' paragraphs? is that I clearly watch too many scary movies and am not mature enough to handle them. OR that Yellow House is haunted by not one, but THREE different villains from the modern horror movie era and I should come up with a convoluted premise about installing security cameras or making my children walk around with GoPros on their heads but neglect to ever watch the footage (UNTIL IT'S TOO LAAAAATE). But anyway my main point is, we're getting a new kitchen! Yay!