This land is our land

By Tiber

Some family friends came by with their new baby and my sister, Erin, texted me about the visit from downstairs. As soon as the baby arrived here, he started to look all around. Then he’d stop and stare fixedly at things that weren’t there…Or were they? Our house does seem to be haunted so that could explain it.

The funny thing here, though, is that right after going all wide-eyed for a few moments, the kid would then instantly conk out asleep. His parents said he was just a good napper but we’re not so sure.

Erin said he reminded her of a canary in a coal mine. God knows my family can be the poison gas. Or does baby know something? Does something wicked – or just plain disgusting – this way come?

At least we can rest easily knowing that our house is not built on top of any sacred burial ground. Native Americans were in the area back in the 1800’s when our house was built. And when my ancestors were picking out the land to build on, they actually met with the tribal elders on this very spot to make sure that no burial ground had ever been here that we could possibly defile.

Evidently, the answer was a solid “no” because the Native Americans began backing up immediately and eyeing each other.

“Here?!? Seriously? You want to build on this land?!? No, no, it’s all yours! Really! You take it!…Uh…Good luck to you! Gotta run!”

To which our forefathers cheerfully responded,

“Well, that’s wonderful! Full speed ahead with our house construction then! And thanks for coming by! We love getting to know the locals!”

Ah, yes, my ancestors. Ahead of their time in harmony! Ahead of their time in unity! Way behind the curve in intelligence.

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