Best Hidden Away - @Studio30Plus Writing Prompt

Let me tell you a little story from some years ago.

It was dark. It was stormy. I know, I know that opening is best hidden away. But that's the way it was.

The rain-slicked streets captured the fallen leaves like wallpaper paste. Better? Thank you.

The little ghosts and goblins were out in full force although some older spooks were best hidden away until later as it was only 7pm. But it was the chatter of those pint-sized spirits that filled the air like the sound of chipmunks who knew their nuts were best hidden away. Take that whatever way you want.

And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap - sorry, wrong season. And the wife watching TV and me having a crap, heard the doorbell ring and went into a flap.

Doing what I was doing in the bathroom with the fan on full was best hidden away, so the wife answered the door. "Where are the treats?" she yelled from the front hall. "On the closet shelf" I erupted...and then replied. "Knowing your love of chocolate I thought they were best hidden away until tonight."

She quickly opened the closet door and then screamed. My brother, who, at my insistence, was best hidden away in the closet jumped out at her and yelled "BOO!"

The chocolate bars, intended for the door-to-door Doctor Frankensteins, dropped to the tiled entranceway like lightly dropping hail from the sky as she fatally collapsed onto the floor.

"And where were you when all this occurred?" asked a large policeman a half hour later. "I was best hidden away in the bathroom" I replied, wiping...the tears from my cheek.

But that wasn't the end of the story. Because each year at this time she returns to rattle around the house, chortling and howling and chiding me. "Did you make the bed? Did you do the dishes? Did you take out the garbage?" And the best one of all "Why did you put your brother up to scaring me to death?"

And I, in a vain attempt to block out her unending and unpleasant questions, place my hands over my ears, grateful my current wife - and former mistress - is visiting her mother, because some things are best hidden away.

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! ...

30 Days of Photos III #4 Sour

Check out Ziva's Inferno for the rest of today's photos.

I Am Charlie, I'm A Bore

Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, Mel Gibson, Tom Cruise, Colin Farrel...you know the list, it goes on and on. The list of Hollywood hick-ups who not content to meltdown behind closed doors have to drag each and every detail out into the light of day and share it with all of us. Well, add Charlie Sheen to that luckless and lascivious list of losers. In the past few days he's been on every major media soapbox complaining abut how he's been treated and how he's misunderstood. Last night he spent an hour on ABC's 20/20 "in his own words". Charlie, you should have stuck to the script. "I have a highly evolved brain". You know I never did like that song by Helen Reddy in the 70s "I Am Woman". But I have to say the melody really leant itself well to a parody of Hollywood's latest flame-out, Charlie Sheen. Although I never thought I'd hear myself say this, my sincerest apologies to Helen Reddy. And now if you're ready (a little play on wor...

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