Ghosts in the walls

This morning you had me turn off the sink because you heard a noise. We stood there in the kitchen and strained to hear it. It sounded like it was coming from the hall, so I followed you out there, then it was coming from outside the door, so we went through, and standing right next to you I heard it clear as day. The doorbell was screeching and chattering like something out of a sci-fi movie. I felt it and the wall around it and it wasn't hot, but I figured I'd call the landlord anyway. Once I got on the phone with her I went back to the doorbell, but the noise had quit. We chatted a while. When I got off the phone you said you'd never be able to concentrate on your reading with that racket, but you were hearing it in the living room now. I went in there, but now you were hearing it in the kitchen! I'm following you all around the house trying to figure out what wall it's coming from when you call me from your bedroom.

It was your gameboy. In your pocket. Squeaking.

So.

You were kind enough to volunteer to call the landlady and explain what bubble-headed boobs we are. I was so proud of you for doing that. I can't imagine doing that when I was your age. Then you talked about being so embarrassed. I pointed out that I'd made the same mistake that you did, and I'm the grown-up...

Hope you can laugh about this soon- it's funny!
Love,
mom