Before we went to dinner the previous evening Mr. P's mom had asked me about the ghost that lived in the hotel. I suggested to her that maybe we should hold off on talking about it until she'd checked out so she wouldn't get too worked up. We agreed that I'd print out some of the stories so she could read them on the plane on the way home after they'd left. They were pretty keyed up from the raccoon encounter, I was doing my best not the stir the waters.

The next day they were leaving and Mr. P was to drive them to the airport. I didn't go along so I asked him what she said about the experience on the drive out and he said she was pretty unnerved the first night but tried to play it cool and had lost it by the second night because something kept pulling her hair and poking her under the covers every time she tried to fall asleep. So I showed him the websites that I'd printed out which described exactly the same activities that happened to his mom and we both said we'd pay money so see her reading them on the plane. But in my defense it was supposed a good ghost. She's a former school marm who's only known to tuck people in, unpack suitcases and stroke hair so it's not like I sent her to the Hole on Alcatraz at night or anything but he said days after they got home was still pretty disturbed. There was talk of priests and holy water.

I think the visit, on the whole, went fine... well at least we all survived.

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