Years ago, when our now-grown-up daughters were smaller, Frank and I moved into Einstein’s house, where we would live for the next 8 or so years, surrounded by Einstein’s furniture.
Of course, we two planned to sleep in Einstein’s bedroom, a tiny room that was dwarfed by Einstein’s study right next to it. Einstein’s big Biedermeier bed was not really big enough to hold two people, we later decided, but on our first night there we didn’t know that yet.
Now, I don’t believe in ghosts, not even in Einstein’s. But it was very strange, in the middle of that first night, to wake up and hear the sound of slow, heavy breathing that was not Frank’s breathing or my breathing or the breathing of one of our daughters.
Whish–pause–whoosh. Whish–pause–whoosh.
It’s one thing not to believe in ghosts, and it’s another thing not to be spooked by strange midnight noises!
One of the good (and bad) things about a small bed is that if you are awake in the middle of the night, you don’t have to do something active to wake up your partner. Your partner will automatically wake up anyway. Here’s how it played out, at least in my recollections:
Mysterious noise: Whish–pause–whoosh. Whish–pause–whoosh.
Frank: (Sleepily) Betsy, is something wrong?
Mysterious noise: Whish–pause–whoosh. Whish–pause–whoosh.
Betsy: (very tiny voice) What is that noise?
Mysterious noise: Whish–pause–whoosh. Whish–pause–whoosh.
Frank: It’s the steam radiator.
Radiator noise: Whish–pause–whoosh. Whish–pause–whoosh.
Betsy: Oh.
So Penn and Teller may not realize it, but when they got Frank, they got a real ghostbuster!