ScaryBob
Readers won't get many cute stories from me. I'm more into serving up healthy doses of the jitters, the creeps, the willies and the heebie jeebies.
Permit me to change gears and deliver something cute, the origin of my nickname, ScaryBob.
My wife and I moved into a condo in Bowling Green, Ohio. The master bedroom was a beautiful loft with double windows on the stairway landing.
Mary voiced her desire that our bedroom be downstairs and it took me about that long to claim that master bedroom as my writing and video game room. My claim stuck. Even more surprising was that she left the decorating to a horror writer. I had gargoyles, hanging plants, scary pictures. The double windows on the landing provided an abundance of light, but the room had an atmosphere of darkness. Dark and spooky was my comfort zone.
Two of our granddaughters, about 9 and 11 were staying the weekend. I was in my room writing. Okay, fine, I was playing video games. The girls were on the landing under the double windows playing quietly.
The time of their visit came to an end and we took them home. We dropped them off, waived to their parents and pulled away. We hadn’t gone very far when Mary said she had something to tell me, but I had to swear that the information would never cross my lips. She was intent on protecting the promise she had made to the girls. I swore, crossed my heart and pledged to die if I broke the promise.
With my promise secured she went on to tell me about the made-up game the girls were playing on the landing under the double windows, right there on the very threshold of my dark kingdom. They were playing a game in which they were protecting the world from some horror named Grandpa Evil.
Oh, how I laughed. How I loved it. I wanted to use it, but my promise had been made. I had to take Grandpa Evil with me to my grave. It wasn’t long after that my imagination rewarded me for my integrity and ScaryBob was born.
Permit me to change gears and deliver something cute, the origin of my nickname, ScaryBob.
My wife and I moved into a condo in Bowling Green, Ohio. The master bedroom was a beautiful loft with double windows on the stairway landing.
Mary voiced her desire that our bedroom be downstairs and it took me about that long to claim that master bedroom as my writing and video game room. My claim stuck. Even more surprising was that she left the decorating to a horror writer. I had gargoyles, hanging plants, scary pictures. The double windows on the landing provided an abundance of light, but the room had an atmosphere of darkness. Dark and spooky was my comfort zone.
Two of our granddaughters, about 9 and 11 were staying the weekend. I was in my room writing. Okay, fine, I was playing video games. The girls were on the landing under the double windows playing quietly.
The time of their visit came to an end and we took them home. We dropped them off, waived to their parents and pulled away. We hadn’t gone very far when Mary said she had something to tell me, but I had to swear that the information would never cross my lips. She was intent on protecting the promise she had made to the girls. I swore, crossed my heart and pledged to die if I broke the promise.
With my promise secured she went on to tell me about the made-up game the girls were playing on the landing under the double windows, right there on the very threshold of my dark kingdom. They were playing a game in which they were protecting the world from some horror named Grandpa Evil.
Oh, how I laughed. How I loved it. I wanted to use it, but my promise had been made. I had to take Grandpa Evil with me to my grave. It wasn’t long after that my imagination rewarded me for my integrity and ScaryBob was born.
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