The Dark Death of Doom

Over the weekend my youngest constructed this tunnel of doom using our ugly couch we affectionately refer to as "The Beast." 

Not only did he title his fort on the outside, he posted various warning signs inside, too.

This was one of my personal favorites, a robot man with patched clothes who couldn't think of anything to say but "BIG BLACK SQUARE." 

When I woke up Monday morning with a million things to do and no desire to do them, I found the tunnel. I liked the look of it, how a person could crawl in there and be completely alone, hidden, but only temporarily. I liked it so much that I pulled out my camera and scooted around inside the labyrinth of pillows and books. It reminded me of how, as a kid, I would sit in my closet with the door closed, a lamp and a book to keep me company. 

One day my mom found me in my closet, happily reading a Trixie Belden mystery. (She must have followed the lamp cord). The door opened with a loud creak and my mother poked her head in. She looked at me with a worried expression. "Are you trying to hide from the world?" she asked. I took her tone of voice to mean that this was a bad thing. Now that I'm a mother too, I wonder if she might have been more envious than worried. There have been many times when I wanted to hunker down in the closet with a good book and a small reading light. But my kids would have sniffed me out. They always do. 

I looked up at my mom, my book open on my lap, sitting cross-legged in a nest made out of clean and dirty clothes. "What's wrong with that?" I said. I don't recall if my mother closed the door or if she made me come out. But I do remember the soft circle of light from the lamp. I remember the smell of clean and dirty clothes mingled with the scent of a book printed on cheap paper. And I remember how it felt to escape, both physically and mentally. I was safe in that little closet, snug and warm among my fictional friends in my closet cave. It was like being in the womb.

 

So, Monday. Doing the soldier crawl through my kid's tunnel. Wondering how to make it through a day of laundry and cleaning--again. This is when I came upon warning sign two, a man without fingers jumping, his teeth in need of a serious cleaning. He reminds me that I still need to brush my teeth. And get dressed. And do the laundry. I decide to call him the Laundry Monster. 

And then, at the end of the tunnel, a spidery looking thing with long legs and many arms. I imagine my son's thought process on this one. Perhaps he was thinking of how many times I say, "I only have two arms, you know," when he asks me to simultaneously cook dinner and find his lost (yet again) soccer ball. I call this one Multi-Tasking Momma. When I look closer, I notice that this monster doesn't have a mouth, just saggy arms and a long snout. Is this a picture of me? Does my son wish that I couldn't speak, so he gave me two little specks for eyes, long legs, and multiple arms? 

I worry about this. It feels like I've opened the closet door to find him drawing weird pictures of monsters that may or may not represent people in his real life. And this tunnel--does it mean something? And then I hear myself thinking, "Is he trying to hide from the world?" 

That's when I crawl out, my head rubbing against the blanket roof as I do so. My hair crackles from static electricity when I stand and I can feel strands stretching out from my face as if reaching towards the light coming from the window. Of course he's trying to hide from the world. Come to think of it, I am too. And what's wrong with that? Nothing, really. Unless you're Multi-Tasking Momma and you've got the Laundry Monster on your tail.    

Comments

[shelby]

Those drawings are way cool! I have great memories of all the couch cushion houses/hiding places/tents and forts we made as kids, but I don't think we ever added an artistic touch like the "Big Black Square" Monster.

[MaryB]

I decided I needed to make another comment on this post. I love the guy who has nothing better to say then "BIG BLACK SQUARE"
Sometimes that's all I have to say, too! In fact, I was telling the kids that is going to be my new expletive especially when things go wrong..."Oh, Big Black Square!"
♥

[MaryB]

I love it! Did Jake make that? It's great!
I remember making tents with all the chairs and blankets and the pool table...that was fun! And I remember you in your closet. Ellisa used to do that (she probably still would, but our current closets aren't well suited for that).
I have monsters on my tail all the time, too! Sometimes I have to be like Indiana Jones or McGyver to outrun them!