This short post was written for
Finish the Sentence Friday
– a blog hop hosted by Finding Ninee.
This week: “I used to think…” (5/16/2019)
My bedroom at 314 Washington Street was right next to my parents’ room. And close to the bathroom and right down the hall from the living room and kitchen. It was a cozy and warm little house. And completely safe.
Except for those monsters under the bed. Good golly, Miss Molly. The ones who, if I wasn’t careful and quick when I got in or out, would grab me by the ankle and then … um, well, I knew for sure something dreadful would happen.
Yes, our family home was cozy and warm and safe … except for those creepy people looking in the windows at night when darkness kept all things “Outside” unknown, and the light inside exposed all of my secrets. I couldn’t imagine what those creatures would do, either, but it must be creepy.
Solution? I made rules.
And I often made the rules up as I went along.
For example, I created an imaginary and quite formindable 12-inch perimeter all around the bed. A demilitarized zone, if you would. Whether getting in or out, if my feet didn’t touch the DMZ, the under-bed bad guys couldn’t touch me. Problem solved.
I also decided that if I didn’t look out the window – not even peek – the creeps couldn’t look in. Even though the window was just as open and my life was just as exposed, they couldn’t see me if I didn’t look at them. You know, the creepy creatures I never did see.
And even if I managed to get into bed without who knows what happening, without looking at the windows, I still had to make sure those guys – as well as the ones who quite possibly inhabited the closet – had no power.
… if I don’t move my feet for the count of 30, they give up.
… if I lay on my belly instead of my side, they lose interest and disappear.
… if I pull the covers over my head.
… or sleep on this side – or that side.
… or cough only once.
… or cough a lot.
… just keep my eyes shut.
… just pray for at least 3 minutes.
… just … zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
My lovelies, either there were no monsters and creepy creatures or my rules were magical because I never did see or hear or feel them – not a-once.
I used to think there were bad things right there in my very own cozy, warm, and safe house. But thank goodness, I no longer do because, of course, I’m all grown up and reasonable and the silly things of my youth have disappeared.
Except, of course, for those ghosts, goblins, and the occasional witch which may, or may not, have taken up residence in our showers. And which, of course, I successfully thwart, stymie, and snooker by simply opening the shower curtains all the way when Tim is gone.
And keeping a downstairs light on.
I never look down the dimly-lit hallway.
Or forget to put on my robe.
Or open the linen closet…
Because my rules really do work.