When we bought our first house, my kid was three. She told us about a tiny hole in the ceiling where she’d hear noises and see an eyeball looking at her. Over time she named the noises and the eyeball Jerry the Hobo.

We moved houses many times since then and my kid is now twenty, but somehow, Jerry seems to find us and move into our attic.

My point: the hobo in the attic will never leave you, he is the most loyal member of your home.

Seriously tho, get to know your attic, we have had all sorts of attic issues because we simply don’t go up there that often. For all we knew, Jerry could have been living up there all this time, just fucking shit up.