This morning as I walked down the hallway on my way to the bathroom, the laundry room light turned itself on.

“Hello, Uncle Joe,” I said as I walked past the laundry room.

As of this past August, Uncle Joe has been dead for two years now. That’s around the time our laundry room light started randomly turning itself off and back on. Even though the room is small there are two light switches in the room, one on each end, hooked to the same light fixture. Even after four years I’ve never quite figured out what configuration the switches need to be in order for the light to come on. I think when they’re both up or both down the light is off, and when one is up and the other is down the light comes on, but I’m not completely sure. Lots of times, the switches don’t do anything at all. Sometimes the light stays off and no matter what you do with the switches, they stay off. Then, just as you climb into bed and lie down, the light turns itself on and fills our bedroom with light.

Uncle Joe sure has a sense of humor.

This morning, the dryer door was open. Last night, the “kid door switch” had been flipped on my truck. Occasionally I go outside and find the garage door open, even though no one will admit to leaving it open. There are a litany of events that take place around here that nobody seems to know anything about.

When I was a kid those strange events were attributed to Ida Know, Not Me, and Nobody. As an adult, I know who’s responsible. It’s Uncle Joe.

Now, I’ll confess, we don’t really think Uncle Joe is behind all of these things. One of the kids probably left the garage door open, the cat may have been the one to open the dryer door, and the wiring in the laundry probably has a wiring short.

Probably.

That being said, we miss Uncle Joe, and this is a lighthearted way of keeping him around in our thoughts. Whenever I can’t find the remote I just had or set down a drink that magically disappears, Uncle Joe will continue to get the blame.