Calling All Ghostbusters

There are things that go bump in the night at our house. The front bathroom sink has a chip in the porcelain where something appears to have fallen or been dropped. We were in bed and heard the crash on the night that it happened and got up to find no one skulking around in the dark, and no object lying in or near the sink to account for the damage. The doors were all still locked, the alarm still turned on. That was a few months ago. Since then, the night sounds have become such a common occurrence that we barely notice them. My partner snores like a banshee and I sleep with ear plugs, although I sometimes still hear the other noises that sound like someone is either throwing a party in the living room or trying to dismantle the place.

But now there's a little added extra something that seems to have been thrown in for our displeasure. Now things are disappearing. I don't mean the couch or a coffee table or the television set (god forbid!). Not yet. First it was an old pair of sandals that I rarely wore anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. I figured they must have made their way to the dumpster at some point, probably courtesy of my partner. Then, there was a book that I was reading. When my partner lost the first pair of glasses, I thought that he must have inadvertantly carried them to work, or to the car, even though he only wears these particular glasses to watch television and they never leave the house. So, we looked and looked and didn't find the glasses, and I still figured he'd somehow managed to lose them. A little later, I bought a journal to keep my thoughts (such as they are) in. I'd only written a few entries when that disappeared off the table next to my bed. By this time, I was beginning to get a little irritated. I knew where I'd placed the journal but searched the house again anyway. By the time my partner's second pair of television-watching glasses disappeared, I was fed up. I saw him take off the glasses and set them on the dresser when he went to bed, so I know exactly where they were. This time, he accused me of absent-mindedly picking up his glasses and putting them somewhere. So, a fight ensued and I told him to give the place a thorough going-over and when he was finished, I'd do the same thing. So we looked. And we looked and we looked. Underneath beds, beneath stacks of folded tee-shirts, underwear, and socks on shelves and in various drawers. The dirty clothes hamper, the microwave, the refrigerator, the washer, the dryer. In every closet, behind every couch and dresser, inside toilet tanks. The glasses were nowhere to be found. This is not a simple case of absent mindedness. We have searched the house up one side and down the other. All these things--two pairs of glasses, a journal, a pair of sandals, a book--are gone. As if they never existed! So, what I'm wondering is this: what the hell is going on around here? Who are these noisy party people who keep taking our stuff? How do they get in and what do they want? Most importantly, how do I get rid of them? Because, really, they've worn out their welcome and I'm ready for them to catch the first train back to Boo-ville or wherever it is they come from.

Where's a good Ghostbuster when you need one?