Do Ghosts Even Like Peanut Butter and Jelly?

 The ghost was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Now, I know what you’re thinking; 

“Do ghosts even like peanut butter and jelly?”

Well, this one does. Our ghost is named Henry. Henry has been assigned to the Williams’ house, and that is where we find him tonight, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in hand. (Don’t get fussy, no one really knows if ghosts have hands or not.) 

His eyebrows are knitted together, and his lips parted. All around him are scattered jam and jelly jars, each with a wonky line of star stickers. Some wear four or five, while others have one or two. Henry gulps down the last bite of the sandwich, and an invisible smile spreads on his face. He jumps up and down a couple of times before pulling out a crinkled pad of star stickers. He grips the pad until it curls in from his grip and picks at the edge of a sparkling star. A small huff escapes his lips as he bends down and picks up the pad after dropping it for the second time.

After several failed attempts to get the sticker off his jelly-covered thumb, he peels off a new star and sticks it onto the jar. When the jar finally wears four more stars, Henry takes a step back and gives an approving nod. 

He puts the jars back in the fridge for the Williams to find in the morning. After many close calls with a jar desperately wanting to meet the floor, Henry closes the fridge and goes home for the night.

The next morning, Mrs. Williams opens the fridge door, and a smile spreads on her pretty red lips. 

“Dear, Henry visited again!”

“Oh, really? I wonder why he didn't say hi. Did he try the new jellies and jams?” Mr. Williams calls back as he walks into the kitchen. A grimace cuts across his face as he lets out a long sigh and drops the end of his tie, which he was trying to tie around his neck. Mrs. Williams picks up the ends and adjusts them until the tie hangs even around his neck. Her fingers move diligently as she ties it around her husband's neck. She steps back and reaches forward, adjusting it slightly so it hangs at the middle of his chest.

“Did he like them?” Mr. Williams asks with a kiss on his wife’s cheek. 

“Some of them, yes, very much, others…” She picks up one of the jars and gently fingers the star, a smile dancing on her face, “Others not so much.”

The End