I scream, you scream, we all scream for… The Boogeyman. Everybody knows The Boogeyman lives under your bed, but can anyone tell me what he looks like? I mean, is he supposed to look like a mummy wrapped in ancient bandages or some kind of flashback disco Casanova with bell bottoms and a medallion? And speaking of mummies, do you think there’s a Boogeylady too? What does she look like—just like The Boogeyman but with a bit of eyeliner and lipstick?
Next thing you know, I’ll have a whole boogey family living under my bed. Now that’s a scary thought. I don’t have room for them; I already have a whole colony of dust bunnies squatting down there. They’re like the uninvited guests who overstay their welcome, multiplying faster than rabbits. I wouldn’t mind that so much if they could do any other mathematical calculations like statistically predicting the winning lottery numbers, so I could, you know, afford a maid.
And where there are dust bunnies, dust coyotes can’t be far behind. Dust coyotes are like regular coyotes, only they make you sneeze uncontrollably. Just imagine me, already terrified out of my wits by The Boogeyman, now dealing with the spooky, sneeze-inducing howls of dust coyotes. It’s a wonder I get any sleep at all.
The only way to get rid of dust bunnies is with a Dirt Devil. I mean, how sinister does that sound? Dirt Devil. It’s like a vacuum cleaner possessed by dark forces. I’d hate to have to call an exorcist for my vacuum cleaner. Just imagine that conversation: “Hello, yes, I need a priest. My vacuum cleaner is possessed.” It’s starting to sound like the premise for a Stephen King novel. Maybe I should just get rid of my bed entirely. That way, I wouldn’t have to worry about The Boogeyman, dust bunnies, or demonic household appliances.
But then, where would The Boogeyman go? Maybe he’d relocate to my closet, hiding among my clothes and shoes. Or worse, he’d take up residence in the attic, joining forces with the phantom creaks and groans that already haunt the place. Perhaps he and the dust coyotes would form an unholy alliance, plotting their next move to scare me senseless.
In the end, it’s a no-win situation. Whether it’s under the bed, in the closet, or up in the attic, there’s always something spooky lurking in the shadows. So, I guess I’ll just keep my bed, and my Dirt Devil, and try to make peace with the fact that my home is a haven for boogeymen, dust bunnies, and all manner of imaginary (I hope) creatures. At least it makes for an interesting bedtime story.