When Your Grandpa is Ozzy Osbourne…

Childhood isn’t the same when the Prince of Darkness is tucking you in at night.

While other kids get soft lullabies and bedtime stories about friendly dragons, you’re getting tales of bat heads, tour buses, and the time Grandpa nearly burned down a stage in Budapest — again.
Your nightlight? Probably a leftover Black Sabbath stage prop still wired for pyrotechnics.

Instead of learning how to ride a bike, you’re learning how to headbang properly without spraining your neck. Your ABCs?
A is for Anarchy, B is for Blizzard of Ozz, and C is for Crazy Train — your actual lullaby, blasted at full volume while Grandpa accidentally rewires the home theater system trying to play it.

Family BBQs?
Forget burgers and Dad jokes. You’ve got Zakk Wylde flipping steaks with a guitar pick, Sharon managing the chaos with a clipboard and zero tolerance, and a neighbor complaining about the smoke — until Ozzy invites them over for a beer and tells them how he “accidentally adopted a wolf once.”

Your grandpa doesn’t yell “I love you!” like a normal grandpa.
He shouts it from the backyard, through a megaphone, with fog machines and roman candles going off behind him.
The neighbors might call the cops. The cops might stay for autographs.

And sure, there’s the occasional weird moment — like when he reads you a bedtime story from an old tour diary, and halfway through, the lights flicker and a demonic voice echoes through the walls.
Grandma says it’s just the wiring.
You’re not so sure.

But despite all the madness — the leather, the eyeliner, the stories that sound more like legends than memories — there’s one thing you never doubt:
When Grandpa Ozzy says he loves you… he really means it.

Loud, messy, chaotic, and unforgettable —
being part of the Osbourne family is like living in a rock opera where every day is the encore.