Don't look under the bed: A pre-Halloween horror story

It's a lesson you learn from horror movies - whatever you do, don't look under the bed.

Or beds, in my case.

To recount my own personal horror movie scenario, let me set the scene...

It's a beautiful, warm, sunny Spring day.

I love Spring.

There's a gentle breeze, just perfect for quickly drying the thick flannelette winter sheets.

I start with Miss7's room.

I'm humming.

Gangnam Style has just been on TV for the bazillionth time and so I'm even busting a few horsey moves as I strip her bed.

All is good until  I move her bed away from the wall to put her clean sheets on.

That's when I notice the amassed tissues, Barbie Doll parts, hair bands and clips peeking out at me. 

I have two options:

Option A : Ignore it and push the bed back against the wall and finish making it.  Ignorance is bliss.

Option B : Be all stupid and get down on the floor, lift the valance, and actually look under the bed for the first time ever in a while.

Any sane person would go with Option A.

So obviously I went with Option B and dove under the bed, coughing up a lung as the dust attacked me for invading its previously untouched space.

W-T-ever loving F?!

It was like the aftermath of a mini flood tornado - debris everywhere.

EVERYWHERE

This is in addition to the debris scattered over every surface of her room that I normally ignore, while grinding my teeth and swearing like a trooper under my breath.

I fill an entire garbage bag with the debris.

And that's only the stuff that qualifies as rubbish.

An hour later I've finished returning all the other stuff to its rightful homes/owners - including one pair of my own undies to my own room (I have no idea....).

Then, despite the trauma, I soldier on.  Because I am hard core, yo.

On to the Twin Tornado's room.

Same again with the sheet changing, only minus the Gangnaming.

Same again with the checking under their beds for the first time ever in a while.

No more humming.  Lots of muttered swear words instead.

Toy parts, food (I sincerely hope it was food....), dummies, clothes, a collection of pegs, DVDs, and piles of shredded paper and colouring in.  It's like a pair of ferrets or rats were nesting under there.

Another one and a half garbage bags full of crap.

Another dust storm endured.

Another hour returning everything else to where it belongs.

TOTALLY LIVID BY THIS POINT.  True to horror movie scary psychopath requirements, I am positive there's fire in my eyes.

Thankfully, I only have my own room left and so I won't have the same crime scenes to clean up while changing the sheets.

Or not.....

Clearly I created the mini-hoarders.

Or, rather, #1Hubby did.

There are old newspapers, random man socks, chocolate wrappers (possibly my only contribution to the epic dump site that's been living under my bed), pens, multiple dictionaries and a number of Inside Sport magazines circa 2008.

#1Hubby, unaware of my absence and swearing and slamming of things upstairs, innocently entered the room to ask if I had anything planned for lunch....

I broke out some moves that were not remotely Gangnam style.  They were moderately more menacing.

But only moderately.

Definitely horror movie worthy.

There was much yelling.  Multiple swear words.  Lots of ranting and raving.

If you don't believe me, just ask the neighbours.  The ones in the next suburb.

Learn from my experience.


Don't ever look under the bed.

It is as scary as any horror movie.

On the plus side, there will be no need to decorate my house for Halloween 2013.  I figure that the carnage will return in full force over the coming year, and I can simply usher the trick or treaters upstairs to the bedrooms and let them look under the beds for a truly shocking and frightening experience.