It's just a personal story, but this one makes me uncomfortable in my own house.
I live with my mom and grandmother in an 80's built house in Oregon. One morning (around 4:00am) I got up to get a glass of water because I had cotton mouth. I walked into the kitchen to find a plate of scrambled eggs on the dining room table. My mom is a teacher and gets up pretty early for work, so I figured they were her breakfast.
That afternoon I got a call from my mom on her lunch break. She asked why I made scrambled eggs and left them on the table. I said 'I didn't, I thought you did.' She said she didn't, and had no idea where they'd come from. My nana is 93, can't walk without her walker, and needs help even getting out of bed. She has advanced alzheimer's, and couldn't cook a plate of eggs if she tried. I asked her that afternoon, 'Nana did you make eggs last night?' She sat silently and refused to answer. I asked her a few more times. She was keeping a secret for someone, or something, and the sly and displeased look on her face still gives me the creeps.