In our house, we basically celebrate Halloween all the time. My husband makes sure of this by delivering the same annoying joke for 12 straight years now, and it happens whenever I pick up a broom (which is at least once a week depending on my energy level and how many Starbucks lattes I’ve had). Anyhow, here’s how it goes down. I’m usually going about my business at home, chasing my son around, tidying up, etc. and the moment I reach for the broom is always the exact same moment my darling husband will happen to stroll by and casually say “Oh, going for a ride?” (long pause for laughter.)
Yes, my husband thinks calling me a WITCH is just side-splitting comedy, and frankly, I can’t help but grudgingly breaking out in laughter from time to time when he happens to catch me off-guard, and I actually give his silly question a moment’s thought.
Now while we’re on the amusing topic of being a “bruja,” (Spanish for witch, or a kind word for bitch) I am proud to say my grandmother was something of a bruja herself back in the day (she was also quite fond of dark rum and cigars, but that’s a different story altogether.) Anyhoo, unbeknownst to many, my grandmother –who’s name I happen to bear- was a devout Catholic with a deep, dark, and scandalous secret. On certain days, when the moon was full -and she felt like scaring the bejesus out of her many grandchildren- my gramdma would search deep in her overstuffed closet (past the contraband liquor and smokes) and emerge holding an ancient heirloom passed down from bruja to bruja in my family; a tattered, yet 100% authentic wooden Ouija board.
I gotta tell you, I’m a grown-ass woman, and those damn things still freak me out. Yeah, I knew it was just supposed to be a game, but I swear I saw that darn triangle thingy (aka the “planchette”) move on its own, and that’s all I’m gonna say about that. The weird thing is, when my grandmother passed away several years ago I tried to recover her mysterious board, and it was never found. I spent hours in her closet and emerged heavily intoxicated, but empty-handed. No box, no board, and no trace of that possessed planchette.
What do you think happened to my grandmother’s board? I’d love to hear your thoughts. In the meantime, I’ve got my broom and I’m going for a ride. 
Your husband sounds like mine, in that he can get the same amusement out of the same joke infinitely. He did this the other day, I don’t remember which joke. He looked at me and said, “I thought you’d laugh” and I said, “I’m sure I did, the first time.”
Spooky about the ouija board! I think one of your cousins hid it to scare you…
I tried one, one time, in college. I was sitting in a brightly lit dorm room with a guy, and we were trying to balance it on our knees as is the custom, right? Only he was about a foot taller than me so our knees weren’t exactly level. And we didn’t notice the planchette moving at all. So, spook-wise, it was pretty much a bust. Which is just as well because I’m easily scared!
We got one of those for Christmas and it scared the crap out of me. I’m sorry, but even the plastic ones are freaky. I’m pretty sure my parents still have it in the games closet, but I am sure neither my brother nor I will ever want it! Maybe they can scare my niece with it next. Gee, thanks, Santa!
Wait, was this the aunt who got grumpy when you tried to wake her up from a nap? Well, no wonder! She was sleeping off the cigar/alcohol hangover!
Ouiji boards are scary. Shiver.
Ouija boards and sleepovers…I never asked a question out of fear or superstition of a self-fulfilling prophecy.