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The original was posted on /r/ghoststories by /u/justpizzacate on 2025-01-26 01:36:02+00:00.

This is probably such a lame story, but it still baffles my whole family to this day.

I’m from Germany, where people aren’t particularly inclined to believe in ghosts or the supernatural. Germans generally prefer logical explanations for strange events and don’t really embrace things like Halloween or horror movies. So, when something weird happens, the usual response is a shrug and, “It is what it is.” That’s why it’s so surprising that even my family ended up saying, “Okay, maybe it was a ghost.”

I grew up in a very old house—my parents still live there, actually. It dates back to the 1910s, though the interior has been renovated several times. Despite the updates, the house still has a spooky vibe, especially at night. I remember how many of my childhood friends were too scared to go to the bathroom after dark—it became a bit of a running joke.

Over the years, small, strange things would happen. Magnets would fall off the fridge for no reason, pictures would tumble from the walls. But we’d just brush it off, muttering, “Eh, it is what it is.” Then one night, something happened that we just couldn’t explain.

My mom had this steel sign in the kitchen. It was one of those funny ones that said, “You take one glass of wine and pour it into the cook.” She kept it at the far end of the kitchen counter, where it was completely secure—no way it could’ve fallen on its own.

One night, about ten years ago, we all heard a loud metallic clatter. The next morning, we noticed the sign was missing. It wasn’t on the counter. It wasn’t on the floor. It hadn’t fallen behind the counter either—our counters are sealed to the wall with silicone, so that was impossible. It was just gone.

For years, my parents couldn’t find that sign. My mom would occasionally joke, “The ghost took it. I think this house might be haunted.” It became one of those funny-but-baffling family stories that we’d laugh about but never understood.

Fast forward to last year. My parents had to replace their dishwasher, so they pulled the old one out—and guess what they found? The steel sign. It was lying behind the dishwasher.

Here’s the thing: the dishwasher was on the other side of the kitchen. The counters are sealed, and there’s no logical way the sign could’ve moved across the room and ended up there. To this day, we have no idea how it happened.

Maybe the ghost didn’t like the sign. Who knows? I get that it’s not the most thrilling ghost story, but sometimes it’s the little, inexplicable things that stick with you.