{I'm sure most everyone is going nice for "wish" ~ but I'm going creepy...}
Just as Bigfoot terrifies me as an adult, Wishbone Man haunted the nightmares of my childhood...
Sitting on top of the china cabinet in my great-grandmother's dining room was this tiny, terrifying figure.
Wishbone Man was about eight inches high, made of crumble newspaper papier mache. I suppose he was supposed to be an Italian Chef or waiter. But he looked like a demented longshoresman. He had on black pants, a yellowed white shirt, and an angular, evil face, all topped with a tiny little red stocking cap. But what gave Wishbone Man his name was the fact that he carried scores of wishbones. See, it was tradition at Grandma's, that whenever you ate a turkey or a chicken, you would save the wishbone, dry it out, and add it to the bone pile heaped on Wishbone Man's arms and shoulders, so that you could hardly see the figure under the heaps of dry bones.
So this bone man leered down from the top of the china cabinet at me, sneering with its evil grin.
I had nightmares as a child that Wishbone Man would come into my bedroom at night and try to steal my teddy bear, Twisty.
In my dreams, when the little evil bone man walked, he scurried along the edge of the room against the wall, in the shadows -- and his heaps of wishbones would clatter in a rustling dry-leaf shimmy that sent shivers up my spine.
It didn't help, probably, that at Grandma's house, I had to sleep on an old rope bed -- where instead of a mattress on a boxspring, there were ropes criss-crossed through the bed-frame and a pillow-tick thin mattress pallet was laid over the crossed ropes. Sleeping on the floor probably would have been more comfortable. I would lie in bed, grasping Twisty, praying that Wishbone Man wouldn't scurry into the room. My rope bed was in the same room as my Grammy's bed, and I would lie there, listening to her snore, afraid that her sonororrific nasal cacophony would mask the clattering rustle of bones that signaled Wishbone Man's approach, and I wouldn't hear him approach until he popped up onto the pillow beside my head and rattle his bones at me!
I would finally drift into an un-easy sleep and dream that the Wishbone Man was chasing me and Twisty, trying to add our bones to his collection...
Just as Bigfoot terrifies me as an adult, Wishbone Man haunted the nightmares of my childhood...
Sitting on top of the china cabinet in my great-grandmother's dining room was this tiny, terrifying figure.
Wishbone Man was about eight inches high, made of crumble newspaper papier mache. I suppose he was supposed to be an Italian Chef or waiter. But he looked like a demented longshoresman. He had on black pants, a yellowed white shirt, and an angular, evil face, all topped with a tiny little red stocking cap. But what gave Wishbone Man his name was the fact that he carried scores of wishbones. See, it was tradition at Grandma's, that whenever you ate a turkey or a chicken, you would save the wishbone, dry it out, and add it to the bone pile heaped on Wishbone Man's arms and shoulders, so that you could hardly see the figure under the heaps of dry bones.
So this bone man leered down from the top of the china cabinet at me, sneering with its evil grin.
I had nightmares as a child that Wishbone Man would come into my bedroom at night and try to steal my teddy bear, Twisty.
In my dreams, when the little evil bone man walked, he scurried along the edge of the room against the wall, in the shadows -- and his heaps of wishbones would clatter in a rustling dry-leaf shimmy that sent shivers up my spine.
It didn't help, probably, that at Grandma's house, I had to sleep on an old rope bed -- where instead of a mattress on a boxspring, there were ropes criss-crossed through the bed-frame and a pillow-tick thin mattress pallet was laid over the crossed ropes. Sleeping on the floor probably would have been more comfortable. I would lie in bed, grasping Twisty, praying that Wishbone Man wouldn't scurry into the room. My rope bed was in the same room as my Grammy's bed, and I would lie there, listening to her snore, afraid that her sonororrific nasal cacophony would mask the clattering rustle of bones that signaled Wishbone Man's approach, and I wouldn't hear him approach until he popped up onto the pillow beside my head and rattle his bones at me!
I would finally drift into an un-easy sleep and dream that the Wishbone Man was chasing me and Twisty, trying to add our bones to his collection...
This, of course, isn't Wishbone Man.
It's me in my nightmare, running away from the little boneman.
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he can't hurt you now honey! i declare it so!
(and i really really mean it too!)
smiles, bee
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
That is a great job! I'm sure that fear has gone away now. I grew up not knowing that there was a wishbone man. Only a wishbone you find in chicken when you eat it.
Anyway, my Manic Monday is up now.
I shall wave my magic mommy wand and make the wishbone man disappear never to return ever.
That's really pretty horrifying. Have you read "Mockingbird" by Sean Stewart? It features some scary dolls.
Very creepy!
Ian
that is a good post Mo.
Did you hear that? That was me screaming at the skeery story just before my bedtime!
I remember reading this the first time you posted it.... and still, what makes me laugh the most is that you had a teddy bear named "Twisty."
LOL!
Are there any pictures of Twisty that you can post for us to see?
I know you loved your grandma, but the thought of hanging bones and keeping them on display is creepy!
No wonder you had nightmares.
Yep! That was creepy.
Later Y'all.
Great post, Mo. I shall never look at chicken bones the same way again -- haha.
Happy MM, all!!
He is coming to get you!!!!!
He will eat your brains like jello.
:)
loved this post, Mo. Enjoy your Monday!
Scary!
Glad I didn´t read yesterday before I went to bed ;)
Happy MM!
You? Running away from a "Boneman"? Hmmm. Cheers!!
Creepy indeed!
Mine's up - late, and a little early.
Wishbone Man wouldn't have the heart to scurry into the room. I´d bite him!
Happy Manic Monday, Mr Mo!
Family, you gotta love their traditions.
wishbone man would scare me, too!
ewww.. we would always keep wishbones too, but just long enough for them to dry so we could wish on 'em! That is really creepy.
I'm running very late. I'll come back to read, but I wanted to get my link posted.
Well, I'm also glad I waited until this morning to read this - creepy!
Creepy....
brr.... scary. I like the word 'wish'. I have never seen a rope bed - but it sounds like a fairly good idea... not for comfort but for durability.
Its my first time reading about the wishbone man. imagining somebody or something chasing you for your bones is scary..nice story though :-)
Thank you for saying what you said over at my page, Mo. I really appreciate it a lot, you have no idea. I'd hug ya if I could. =)
Thanks again!!!
Yikes, I have to go to bed now, I sure hope I don't dream of this or should I say, have nightmares about this...
Happy MM anyway!
Creepy, makes you wish you hadn't read it. :D We always kept the wishbones to snap too.
I love that your dreams are as freaky as mine!! And I love that you use the word cacophony!