​My husband and I finally created a spare bedroom in our house. When the boys were little, the updated room was their playroom. As they grew into tweens and teens, it became the Danger Room (X-Men fans will understand) and was the space for ye olde desktop computer and countless video game consoles and televisions. 

The boys are all moved out now, so the room slowly became the catch-all with a bed somewhere in the middle of the clutter. Not exactly a cozy space to offer a guest, so we repainted and cleared out the piles of stuff thus creating a room a visitor could not only sleep in, but walk in without tripping. 

We sent a video to the boys to show off the transformation and the feedback from them was not good. 

(Good thing we have the daughter-in-law, a woman with good taste and an appreciation for aesthetics, and the grands! The ladies in the family gave their support and approval!)

The paintings the boys are yacking about were my great-great grandmother's. My grandmother had them hanging in her parlor. As a little girl, I was certain the girl with the puppy was me and was more than a bit salty that no one could explain where my pup went. 

My grandma gave the watercolors to my parents. They hung in my mom's living room for years. When Dad passed and Mom downsized, the paintings became mine, though I NEVER got to hang them on any wall in my house, until now, because my boys were convinced they were haunted.  

Do you think they'd calm down if I washed them in holy water?

Oh well. I suppose if memories are ghosts, then yes, these paintings are very haunted.