A Tale of Mr. Boo

My sister Christie and I grew up as best friends. We were literally joined at the hip and could finish one another's sentences without even a second thought. We were and still are like twins, despite the two year age difference between us. One could never accuse us of having a lack of an imagination, and it was times like this, that Mr. Boo likely was rolling on the ground with laughter as we would valiantly try to point out his existence .......

Sometime in the early 80's

I can't remember exactly how old we were, but we shared a bedroom upstairs in what we called the Attic. It wasn't really an attic, but the house was old and the roof was sloped in on each side, so it certainly resembled an attic to an overly active imagination. On this particular night though, our imaginations did not have a chance to create something truly exciting nor scary as we were awoken from a peaceful slumber. It was dark out and out of the blue, an old vinyl pull down blind decided to snap open all on it's own. The loud snap of the blind was enough to bring instant terror into our little hearts so we called upon our dragon slayer to come and save us, AKA: Super Daddy. Once daddy determined that there were no dragons to slay and that it was only just a blind that had opened, we were tucked safely back into our beds. It was shortly thereafter that mischievious Mr. Boo decided to dump all of the contents out of our playroom school desks. It was as if he picked up the end, lifted it up and all of the stored junk inside noisely fell to the floor. After about 10 minutes of this, we called upon our dragon slayer once more to come and save us. Up the steep, crickety stairs Super Daddy did come only to reassure us that the desks were just fine and that we were imagining things. Off downstairs once more Dad did go, with Christie and I tucked safely into our beds. About half an hour later, just as we were drifting off to sleep, Mr. Boo decided to dump the contents of the desks out once more. Truly terrified now, we screamed out little hearts out in hopes that Super Daddy would once again done his cape and come to our rescue. Instead however, Irrate and Irritated Daddy came and gave us a stern lecture. Never one to not take advantage of a situation, I promptly broke down into hysterics at which my Dad practically booted my butt down stairs to Mom to go and sleep in the basement. Being the ever thoughtful sister that I am, I desserted poor Christie to Mr. Boo, who in turn tormented her for at least another hour of dumping the desks. Her saving grace was sleeping under her covers as she figured that braving Mr. Boo was a much safer option than braving pissed off Daddy and risking the same fate as her sister.