I was only about two years old. My mother and grandmother were painting the house, and didn't want me to get dirty, so they put me in my travel cot in my bedroom. Once they'd left me for about half an hour, they heard me start laughing. Apparently, I was also screaming, yet I wasn't at all scared. They put down their brushes, and rushed in to see what was wrong. I was still sat there, in my travel cot, beaming like there was something really funny. They looked round the room, and were astonished to find that my plastic stacking cups, that every child has at one point or another, were all lined up around the edge of the room. What puzzled them the most was the fact that neither of them had done it themselves, and I clearly couldn't have climbed out of my travel cot and done it myself.
From then on, I was frequently seen sitting on the stairs talking to a person that wasn't actually there. On multiple occasions I'd be sat there, talking as if it was a conversation being had. However, there was never anyone there.
Then one day, as me and my mother were leaving to go and see someone, I said, "Mom, I haven't seen that lady in a long time." My mother was very confused, and upon asking me what lady I meant, I replied with, "The one that wears the lipstick. You know, the one I always talk to on the stairs?" However, my mother had no idea whatsoever as to what I was talking about. But all this time, there were things being moved around whenever someone left the room, and strange noises were heard frequently around our house. It was clear to my mother and I that our house was in fact, haunted. By the Lady With The Lipstick.