Monday, January 30, 2006
Monsters Under the Bed!
We all have trouble falling asleep at times unless we really want to stay awake. The other night we were trying to stay awake long enough to see the Northern Lights, but our eyes kept getting sleepier and sleepier. Then I started recalling times when one just could not go to sleep out of fear. Especially when one starts thinking about monster under the bed.
We were visiting friends in Littleton, Colorado, and our two youngest were going to sleep in Matthew’s room down in the basement. It was touch and go there for a while because Matt had a small pet boa constrictor that he kept in a cage there. The kids found it rather squeamish whenever anyone fed Mr. Boa a mouse. It was just too much to watch so they would beat a hasty, and I do meant hasty, retreat whenever his dinner was served. One night as they prepared to go to bed they sensed that something was not right—a common tactic when one of them did not wish to go to bed. They searched the room diligently until they spotted what was amiss. The door to the cage was open and the snake was nowhere to be seen. No matter how small the snake was, there was no way two kids were going to sleep in that room with a boa on the prowl—even though he was probably just under the bed sleeping off his dinner.
Many years later we were back home and everyone had gone to bed. Kathy was sleeping comfortably in her bedroom, which had a sliding glass door that opened onto the deck. She suddenly heard an incessant meowing at the door. She knew that if she were going to sleep any that night, she would have to put a stop to it. So she got up in the dark and slid the door open, as she was prone to do, so that Frisky could come inside. Something pounced on the bed and started purring—very happy to be inside. As Kathy started to drift back off into sleep, she suddenly heard the pitter patter of small feet scurrying across her floor. She startled awake and then let out a scream. Frisky had brought her a present, but in her haste to find a warm spot on the bed had turned the present loose and the mysterious present was busy moving about the room in the dark. Kathy turned on her bedside lamp and slowly started to scour the room to locate her present. Seeing nothing, she threw the cat to the floor to see if it could locate the missing prey. No dice! She then nervously but cautiously put one foot on the floor and then leaped back against the wall. She gradually worked up her courage and from her remote vantage point peered beneath the bed. She spotted something small and dark hunkered down beneath her bed. She took Frisky and shoved her beneath the bed. This prompted the mole to move, and Frisky seized her precious present. However, Frisky would not come out from under the bed. Whereupon Kathy took her broom to chase the cat and prey from beneath the bed. Not quite grasping the situation, Frisky dropped the mole and shot out from under the bed. The vigil was repeated several times until the cat and mole both appeared simultaneously and were both shown the door. After thirty minutes or so, Kathy once again heard an incessant meowing at her door. We all heard a loud voice saying “Frisky! You can forget it! You are not getting back inside!”
When our kids were four, eight and twelve we were at their grandmother’s house for a family thanksgiving dinner. After eating way too much the adults were congregated in the kitchen engaged in a series of lively conversations while the living room had been abandoned to the small fry. Finding themselves deprived of any adult supervision the kids decided to watch something they knew they were not supposed to watch—a vampire movie, Salem’s Lot. As the kitchen conversations were starting to wind down, there was a massive explosion of kids from the living room as the little ones frantically identified parents and grabbed onto their legs as if their lives now depended on it. They were all scared out of their minds. We silenced the TV and decided that under the circumstances, the best thing we could do would be to call it a night and head home. Even back in the confines of their own home the three kids were still edgy—very edgy. Anytime we tried to turn around we stumbled over one or two of them. Since it was already very late, we suggested that they all go to bed. None of them professed to be the least bit sleepy. Surprise! Surprise! After midnight rolled past and they were still not sleepy, we realized that we had a real crisis on our hands. After pondering various solutions to a tricky problem, I hit upon the answer to our prayers. “What are vampires afraid of?” I made a mad dash to my workshop, picked up some thin pieces of scrap and grabbed my stapler. Wham! Wham! Wham! I emerged triumphantly carrying three large crosses. I gave one to each child and they headed for their respective bedrooms—suddenly all very sleepy. They slept with those crosses for the next year.
We all have trouble falling asleep at times unless we really want to stay awake. The other night we were trying to stay awake long enough to see the Northern Lights, but our eyes kept getting sleepier and sleepier. Then I started recalling times when one just could not go to sleep out of fear. Especially when one starts thinking about monster under the bed.
We were visiting friends in Littleton, Colorado, and our two youngest were going to sleep in Matthew’s room down in the basement. It was touch and go there for a while because Matt had a small pet boa constrictor that he kept in a cage there. The kids found it rather squeamish whenever anyone fed Mr. Boa a mouse. It was just too much to watch so they would beat a hasty, and I do meant hasty, retreat whenever his dinner was served. One night as they prepared to go to bed they sensed that something was not right—a common tactic when one of them did not wish to go to bed. They searched the room diligently until they spotted what was amiss. The door to the cage was open and the snake was nowhere to be seen. No matter how small the snake was, there was no way two kids were going to sleep in that room with a boa on the prowl—even though he was probably just under the bed sleeping off his dinner.
Many years later we were back home and everyone had gone to bed. Kathy was sleeping comfortably in her bedroom, which had a sliding glass door that opened onto the deck. She suddenly heard an incessant meowing at the door. She knew that if she were going to sleep any that night, she would have to put a stop to it. So she got up in the dark and slid the door open, as she was prone to do, so that Frisky could come inside. Something pounced on the bed and started purring—very happy to be inside. As Kathy started to drift back off into sleep, she suddenly heard the pitter patter of small feet scurrying across her floor. She startled awake and then let out a scream. Frisky had brought her a present, but in her haste to find a warm spot on the bed had turned the present loose and the mysterious present was busy moving about the room in the dark. Kathy turned on her bedside lamp and slowly started to scour the room to locate her present. Seeing nothing, she threw the cat to the floor to see if it could locate the missing prey. No dice! She then nervously but cautiously put one foot on the floor and then leaped back against the wall. She gradually worked up her courage and from her remote vantage point peered beneath the bed. She spotted something small and dark hunkered down beneath her bed. She took Frisky and shoved her beneath the bed. This prompted the mole to move, and Frisky seized her precious present. However, Frisky would not come out from under the bed. Whereupon Kathy took her broom to chase the cat and prey from beneath the bed. Not quite grasping the situation, Frisky dropped the mole and shot out from under the bed. The vigil was repeated several times until the cat and mole both appeared simultaneously and were both shown the door. After thirty minutes or so, Kathy once again heard an incessant meowing at her door. We all heard a loud voice saying “Frisky! You can forget it! You are not getting back inside!”
When our kids were four, eight and twelve we were at their grandmother’s house for a family thanksgiving dinner. After eating way too much the adults were congregated in the kitchen engaged in a series of lively conversations while the living room had been abandoned to the small fry. Finding themselves deprived of any adult supervision the kids decided to watch something they knew they were not supposed to watch—a vampire movie, Salem’s Lot. As the kitchen conversations were starting to wind down, there was a massive explosion of kids from the living room as the little ones frantically identified parents and grabbed onto their legs as if their lives now depended on it. They were all scared out of their minds. We silenced the TV and decided that under the circumstances, the best thing we could do would be to call it a night and head home. Even back in the confines of their own home the three kids were still edgy—very edgy. Anytime we tried to turn around we stumbled over one or two of them. Since it was already very late, we suggested that they all go to bed. None of them professed to be the least bit sleepy. Surprise! Surprise! After midnight rolled past and they were still not sleepy, we realized that we had a real crisis on our hands. After pondering various solutions to a tricky problem, I hit upon the answer to our prayers. “What are vampires afraid of?” I made a mad dash to my workshop, picked up some thin pieces of scrap and grabbed my stapler. Wham! Wham! Wham! I emerged triumphantly carrying three large crosses. I gave one to each child and they headed for their respective bedrooms—suddenly all very sleepy. They slept with those crosses for the next year.
