The Monster under My Bed

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The Monster under My Bed “Mom, please!” I cried. “All my friends are outside waiting for me.” “Amanda, I told you not until your room is clean. Now, go get started. The sooner you start the sooner you will finish and can then go outside and play,” replied my mother with a firm voice. I was a very stubborn five-year-old girl. My friends were outside wanting me to play, but after much begging my mother was still refusing to let me out of the house until my room was clean. The thought of my friends outside playing, and my missing out on the fun was too much for me to bear. I decided to take a shortcut on the cleaning and learned a lesson that even now, almost 20 years later, I still haven’t forgotten. I could tell from my mother's stern voice that she wasn’t going to budge on this one. I turned around, hunched my shoulders, dropped my head, and walked down the hall to clean my room, pouting the entire way. I turned into the room and saw a huge mess. “This is going to take forever!” I thought as I looked around at the toys, puzzles, books, and clothes strewn about all over. There was no way I could clean all this up and still have time to go play with my friends. “Jeez, Mom doesn’t understand anything. If she would just let me go play, then I would come back and clean it up later,” I thought to myself. “She is no fun at all. When I’m a mom I will never make my kids clean their room,” I vowed to myself. I started cleaning, putting toys in the toy box, books on the shelf, shoes and dress-up clothes in the closet. “I tagged you, I tagged you,” I could hear my friends yelling from outside. “You’re it! Ha, ha!” I had to get out there. Looking around my still-messy room, I realized my bed had lots of room under it.

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