Monster Rules

To the monster living under my bed, it’s time to set some rules. We can skip right past the interrogation, how long have you been living here?, what are you doing under there, and why? I don’t really need to know all that, or I’m too scared to ask after we locked eyes the other night when I came home past 2AM a little more drunk than usual. Your bumpy, spiked reptilian tail was enough to scare the living bageezus out of me, did you really have to turn around and stare like that? With those florescent, glow-in-the-dark, green eyes? Ugh, creepy! I don’t think I’ve ever run and jumped on my bed that fast in my adult-life. Hope I didn’t bonk your head too hard…

Anyway, yes, rules, we need rules. I am not heartless enough to evict you, I’m also not even sure if that’s possible, because, well I’m not even sure exactly what kind of monster you are – hopefully, not the human-eating kind...right? 

That leads me to my first rule.

1. Don’t eat me (please).

I really don’t think you’d enjoy me. My ex-girlfriend was never really interested in it; honestly, she hardly even wanted to kiss me, so I think that is saying something about how I taste. Plus, I recently adopted a shower-three-times-a-week schedule, so I’d probably taste a little ripe… And not the good kind. So, this is a hard set rule. You cannot eat me, or else you’re outta here. 

2. Don’t eat my dog, either. 

I’m not going to lie, I’m a little pissy with Terrance for not finding you sooner. They say pitbulls are really dangerous and vicious, but he’s an awful guard dog, with an even worse sense of smell. How he sleeps all day on my bed while I’m at work and never realized there was a living, breathing, blinking monster living under our bed is beyond me. And while I admit, even at 5 years old, his ears still have the chocolate-y delicious aroma of a very small puppy dog, you must resist tasting him. Got it? He’s pretty much my best friend. Plus, now that I know about you, there’s no way I can sleep in my bed alone. No. Eating. The dog. (But, if you have to eat one of us, choose him).

3. Don’t eat my guests.

OK, I don’t have a ton of guests coming over, but if I do bring some friends over, leave them alone. I’m trying to make friends, and keep them, so it would really ruin it for me if you ate them. 

That being said, the position of guard dog, er, guard thing, is technically open since Terrance has been slacking. So, if I bring someone over and they start acting a little sketchy, then sure, go ahead and eat them. But it’s best if you check with me first. I’ll give you a signal. Probably.

4. You can eat the spiders.

My mom always did this thing where she would tell me what I can’t do, and then she’d balance it out with some things I can do. So, here’s yours. I don’t like spiders, but maybe you do? Feel free to snack on those all day long. And if you find any other bugs, sure, go ahead and eat them, too. Every now and then, I have a bit of an ant problem (probably because I’ve made a bit of a habit out of eating snacks in my bed), so if you fancy them, eat a whole army of them! I’m not sure, but I think there’s some old ant traps down there; maybe if you give it a shake, you can make a little ant-spider smoothie.

5. You can eat the crumbs that fall under the bed.

Like I said, I eat snacks in bed, so if they don’t make it into my mouth, go ahead and put them in yours. 

6. You can have the dust bunnies, but if you find a sock, give it back.

Here’s the deal, socks are expensive! And for whatever reason, us humans are always losing just one of them. Some people blame it on our washing machines – maybe you’ve heard mine rumbling in the garage below you – but I’m not entirely convinced that all of my socks get lost in there. I usually have my socks on when I sleep, and when I wake up they’re gone. So, my guess is they’re under the bed. I’ve never been a fan of going down there – probably why I’ve never seen you, now that I think about it… Anyway, if you find any, please push it out from under the bed. You don’t need to fold them or anything like that, just slide them out so I can see them. I’d love to have a few complete pairs for a change. If you need something soft to sleep on, the dust bunnies are all yours. I guarantee there’s no shortage of those where you are. 

7. Give back the hair ties, too.

You might have noticed that I have long hair; I’m sure there’s probably some of it down there – that might make a good binder for your dust bunny creations. And just like the socks, I’m always losing my hair ties. I really need them. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to buy a set of 32, only to have no idea where any of them are in a matter of days. And if I have to keep flipping my hair out of my face, my neck is going to snap. 

8. Please don’t break rule #1.

I cannot stress enough how much this rule means to me. I feel like I’m being pretty chill about sharing my bed area with you; I’ve only listed, like, 8 rules here. I don’t think I’m asking too much, and I truly think our relationship could develop into a symbiotic one. But the only way for that to work is if I’m still around. 

If you think about it – you can think, right? –, you need me. Without me, you would never have found a bed to live under. Without me, there’d be no fallen snacks. We can work together. As long as we never see each other, and keep living our lives separately, we could be a great team. 

So, I’m leaving this set of rules for you right at the edge of the bed, – we’ll call this No Man’s Land, huh? – so I hope you’ll get it, and most importantly agree to it. I’d really hate for us to have any trouble. You seem like a pretty cool monster, aside from that weird staring – please don’t do that again. But if you do, if we run into each other again after another late night drinking excursion, let’s just try to pretend it’s not happening. I’ll go about my business, turn on some Netflix or something, and you can go back to doing whatever it is you do under there. Sound good? I hope so. 

Well, thanks for considering all this, uh, monster….do you have a name? Er, it doesn’t really matter, since I’m planning on not seeing you ever again. I’ll just call you Monster. Have a nice life under there, my dude. And remember, please, please, don’t eat me.