What’s hiding under the bed
Posted on August 2nd, 2013
ave you seen what’s going on under the bed in there?” Scott asked. “It’s crazy. You should take a look.”
Ordinarily, this is not an entreaty I would be quick to respond to. I’m sure whatever is going under any bed in our house is ‘crazy’ in way that involves dust and giant balls of hair and, on a bad day, bugs. It’s more my policy not to look under the bed, just one part of a larger, more general live-and-let-live zeitgeist I try to participate in when I’m busy not cleaning the house. In this particular instance, however, I made an exception because I knew Scott wasn’t talking about the remarkable progress of some naturally occurring phenomena, neither flora, fauna nor filth. Peaches was building something again—a lot of somethings as it turned out—and this time she was working under her bed.
“I want to see,” I told her cautiously from the door of her room.
Peaches waved me down to join her on the floor. I peered under the wooden frame to see…depth. Layer upon layer of engineered activity was waiting to be deciphered down there. There was a stuffed bear wearing a paper top hat. Next to him, a beanbag cat had been perched on its head, a set of barbells constructed out of a straw and two tiny paper cubes was balanced between its back paws. And behind both of these, twisted and tucked into the slats, was a network of colorful pipe cleaner trapezes from which other, more adventurous stuffed animals were suspended. On the rug between my face and this installation, two battery-powered tea lights had been set to blazing.
“Welcome to the Nighttime Circus!” she announced in her best imitation of a basso profundo taking to the stage.
I decided then and there that I’d been all wrong about not looking under our beds. Who knows what other marvels might be waiting to be revealed down there? Maybe there’s a pot of gold under one of yours! You should invite me over. I’d be happy to check for you myself.∗