Things That Worry Me Which Probably Shouldn't

I'm concerned that our dearly departed friends and family really can see what we're doing.
   It's a common sentiment, when someone passes on people will tell you the person is 'watching from the other side.' This is supposed to be comforting, but I find it alarming. Are they really watching? Right now? And are they amused, distracted, or disgusted with what was going on? Ghost or not, they're still people, and not necessarily people I want to see every little detail of what goes on in my day.
   I mean, if I was doing stuff I didn't want my grandmother to watch while she was alive, why would I want her to be able to get a ring-side seat when she's dead? Same with my dad or my friend Greg who died when he was seventeen. When someone tells me they can see what's going on from the other side, I think of a picture window with a nosy neighbor craning his neck as he tries to see what you just brought back from the hardware store. Or a peeping Tom lurking in the bushes trying to see past the curtains into your boudoir. Or a snitch who's part of your gang but is really just waiting for the chance to turn you into the Feds. See? All kinds of paranoia come up when you start thinking about ghostly witnesses to your dealings.
   Even worse, what if there's more than one of them watching, and they start discussing what you're doing, like a football play-by-play?
   'Did you see that move, not many people can get the bra off with one hand.'
   'No indeed, but... oh, too bad... way too much saliva in that kiss. It's like he sprayed her with a firehose.'
   'She sure didn't like that, he's definitely killed the mood. Let's go to the replay.'
   And forget about the big stuff like sex or robbing a bank, what about regular everyday stuff you don't need an audience for? Like taking a poop. You ever see that self-conscious look on your dog's face when you watch him doing his business? Now imagine that was you out on the lawn, looking back over your shoulder and so embarrassed you could barely get the job done.
   Think about that the next time you're on the throne with your nose buried in your sudoku puzzle book, assuming that just because the door is closed no one can see you. Aunt Gertrude might just be watching...