Under My Bed

Originally posted 07/02/2005 7:49pm

What a productive day I've had! I woke up early, ate breakfast, got dressed, went to the gym and did pool exercises for about 40 minutes, sat in the steam room for about 10 minutes, showered off the chlorine (at the gym), got re-dressed and then came home. I had this sudden boost of energy so I vacuumed and steam-cleaned the carpets downstairs. Then, I vacuumed the carpets upstairs. I even moved my bed and vacuumed up all of the kitty-created fur-balls and dust balls that hid under there. There's nothing quite as satisfying as giving your house a thorough cleaning.

When I was a little kid, I was afraid of what hid under my bed. Most kids are afraid of the closet. Not me. I was convinced that some monster lived under my bed and if I let my feet dangle for more than a few seconds when I was getting in or out of bed, the monster would grab my feet and pull me under. The only thing that scared me more when I was a little kid were people. I was a very shy kid. I was one of those annoying kids who hid behind my mom whenever people would talk to me. On all of my report cards, teachers would write that I needed to learn to overcome my shyness. Boys were particularly frightening to me, eventhough I had a brother.

In second grade, there was a boy who "liked" me. "R" would come up to me at school and try to talk to me. He would do all of those things that icky boys do to let girls know that they like them. He would tease me. He would tell me jokes. He would offer to let me play kickball (eventhough I lacked coordination and sucked) on his team at recess. He lived pretty close to me so sometimes, I'd even see him walk by my home on his way to/from the bus stop.

The summer before third grade, "R" got bold in his pursuit. One day, I was in my bedroom playing with my barbie dolls. My bedroom window was open and I could hear my mom outside talking to someone. I looked out the window and there stood "R". I freaked out. My mom started yelling for me. "R" had come to visit. To play. I panicked. I couldn't go outside because the only exit would take me right to where my mom and "R" stood. We lived in a small place and there weren't a lot of hiding options. I considered under the kitchen table but sometimes, spiders were seen there and I didn't want to hide with spiders. I thought about the bathroom, but my mom had figured out a way to unlock the bathroom door so that was a bad choice. I thought about the closet but it was jammed full of the toys I was supposed to put away every day and just threw on the closet floor. That left.... UNDER THE BED.

Yup. I faced my fear head on and shimmied under my bed. I lie on my stomach and scooted as close to the wall as I could get. (My bed was up against the wall, obviously.) My mom entered the house calling for me. She announced that little "R" was outside and wanted to know if I wanted to go bike-riding. She checked my room, but didn't check under my bed. I held my breath waiting to be discovered. I was safe! I heard her go back outside and say something to "R". Her voice was muffled but she stopped calling for me. I crawled out from under the bed and peeked outside. He was gone and Mom had gone back to watering her flowers. WHEW!

I got over my fear of what hid under my bed that summer. It took longer to get over my shyness and my fear of boys. (Although, do we ever really get over our fear of boys?)

"R" moved away that summer and I was glad I didn't have to face him in the fall. He moved back our senior year and I'd like to say that our eyes met and he remembered me from second grade and we fell in love and went to prom, but, alas, "R" came back cute and a cheerleader snatched him up before I could even try to recall the old days with him.

I have him to thank for discovering that there are no monsters hiding under my bed.