The Blob Under My Bed

How I Learned to Sleep Without Dangling Anything Ever Again

When I was eight years old, my parents took me to the drive-in to see a little film called Beware! The Blob. You may not remember it, and honestly, that’s probably for the best. It was a low-budget sequel to the original Blob, less horror classic, more ridiculous chaos.

I don’t remember the popcorn. I don’t remember the weather. But I remember the Blob.

For the uninitiated, the Blob is a big, goopy, blood-red mass that slides around eating people. Slowly. Relentlessly. It doesn't talk. It doesn't have a plan. It just absorbs everything in its path, like Jell-O with a grudge.

And that night, parked under the stars in the safety of our big American car, my brain did the thing that little kid brains are so terrifyingly good at, it rewrote reality.

By the time we got home, I knew the Blob lived under my bed.

It had found its way from the screen into my room, where it now lurked, waiting for any foolish foot or wayward arm to stray over the edge. That was its moment. That was the rule. Hang off the bed? Blob bait.

For months, I slept like a professionally shrink-wrapped burrito. Tucked. Tight. No toes over the line. No dangling arms. And under no circumstances did I let my hand trail off the mattress, even when I had to pee or I desperately needed a drink of water. That was Blob territory.

Was it hokey? Absolutely. Did it stick with me? Oh yeah. Stick…it never got me actually. LOL.

What amazes me now is how powerful fear can be, especially when you’re a kid. It doesn’t matter if the monster is a bad special effect from a movie your parents thought was “silly fun.” When your brain decides something is real, it’s real.

It’s funny looking back now, of course. The special effects in Beware! The Blob were glorified ketchup and cornstarch. But to eight-year-old me? It was a documentary.

That fear, the kind that feels absurd in hindsight, teaches you something. It makes you cautious. Imaginative. Maybe even a little more empathetic to what other people are afraid of.

And if nothing else, it explains why I still don’t like sleeping with my limbs hanging off the bed.

Some habits die hard. Others ooze under the frame and wait.

Your Turn

Did you have a childhood fear that seems silly now but haunted you then? A monster, a movie, a weird noise in the basement? Let me know. I’ll be over here keeping my ankles tucked safely under the covers.