Demon in the Mattress

Used furniture is never a good idea.

I told her that. I definitely, absolutely told her that. You have no idea what happened on that couch. No idea what kind of creepy-crawlies could be lurking inside that cabinet.

But, what does she do?

Does she listen to me?

No, of course not.

She goes out and buys a used mattress.

used mattress.

How the hell am I supposed to sleep? Huh? How can I sleep not knowing?

How can I sleep when the mattress moves?

How am I supposed to live with that? Continue reading “Demon in the Mattress”

Where the Sodas Are

“There’s a dragon in my mattress.”

I said it so simply because I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to say it.

But, clearly, because I’d said it so simply, I was misunderstood.

“That’s nice dear,” Mom replied, continuing to chop the leeks.

I watched for a moment as she sliced. Meticulously, she cut each piece sideways into slants. Her knife was making steady work, thumping in an even time. Almost like a metronome. Steady, and sure, and slow. No fear in the way it moved.

“Can I get a soda? For the dragon?”

I could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“Yes, fine. But only one.”

“Thanks Ma!”

Grabbing two sodas, I ran up the stairs, back to my room with the dragon-stuffed mattress. Continue reading “Where the Sodas Are”