princess bed dome
A friend gave me their unwanted bed canopy a few weeks ago at a yard sale. I was excited because I hadn’t had one since I was young. The one I had was bright pink and was quickly torn apart by my new kitten at the time, Levi’s.
I’ve been loving sleeping with my new canopy closed. Being surrounded by its opulent waves of white mesh makes me feel like I’m in a princess safety dome; it reminds me of when I’d sleep in my parents’ bed as a child. I’d snuggle close beside them and imagine an invisible dome that stretched from the headboard to the footboard of the bedframe. I felt safe inside the impregnable dome - like my feet could hang out the end of the blanket and nothing hiding under the bed could grab them.
My bed reminds me of the almost-against-city-bylaws screen house my parents are building in the backyard. I came up with this comparison when I was in bed the other night and heard a bone-tingling BUZZ coming from somewhere in my room. I knew it couldn’t have been a cute bug, so I was hesitant to investigate. I eventually peeked through the tiny holes of the mesh and saw a long, black, beetle-like bug struggling to fly up the wall beside my bookshelf. I’m brave in some ways, but I’m just a scared baby in situations like this. Dealing with bugs is for Mama and Lauren. I honestly don’t think I’ve asked any other groups of people for bug help. Lauren wasn’t around, so I had to call in Peggy-Sue. I phoned her (she was in bed) and begged for her help. In a quick, “Be right there,” she was at my door.
I’m so sorry to say this, but she did kill him. He was a good bug, I know this. Google told me it was a masked hunter bug and they only bite to protect themselves. He didn’t know he was interrupting my night - he was just looking for some dinner! He probably would’ve eaten a mosquito if I asked him too - if I spoke bug, or if he spoke English. I only would’ve asked him if we had a good vibe going. He was special in his own disgusting way, so in his honour, I’m going to share some interesting facts about him with you.
He ate bed bugs, carpet beetles, termites, lacewings, woodlice, millipedes and more.
When he was young, he was covered in itsy-bitsy hairs that caught dust and dirt. This would help him camouflage and make him tricky to spot.
He had a toxin in his freaky little needle mouth that paralyzed and liquefied his prey.
Most people don’t have a screen around their bed that protects them from assassin bugs, but I do. I was scared, but not as scared as I would’ve been if I wasn’t in the safety of my canopy. I could’ve slept in there all night - safe from his bite.
My room is my personal space, but inside my canopy is my personal-personal space. I pick away at books and nibble my nighttime snacks inside my canopy. I toss around at night until my blanket and canopy are intertwined on my leg like a pretzel or a braid. Inside my dome, I anonymously view the Instagram stories of my ex-workplace that blocked me on social media when I quit. I also think about a lot of things in there, like how stupid I looked at the photo lab when I didn’t know I was supposed to bring a USB to transfer my photos onto, that one person, that other person, how I think I misquoted someone from A Doll’s House in my yearbook quote (was it Nora or Dr. Rank?) but I’ll never know because I never bought any of my yearbooks.
Bus shelters also remind me of being in my canopy, except they are less regal and block more wind than a canopy ever could. I don’t usually do this, but I sat in one the other day while I waited for the 18 after work. I didn’t think about much while I waited there because I was saving my big juicy thoughts for the bus. The bus is where I let most of my suppressed thoughts from the day flow into my brain.
Here are some of my thoughts from my Tuesday bus ride:
I don’t think the man crossing the street knew his steps were at the same tempo as the bus’s turning signal.
A dead, squashed mosquito is on the window and bread crumbs are on the floor. I accidentally put my bag down on the bread crumbs and I feel a lot of regret.
The person I saw in a car moments ago
I don’t want anyone to sit beside me, but the bus is packed and I don’t want to be rude by putting my bag down on the next seat.
The air conditioning is blowing directly under me and I’m freezing, so I’m crossing my arms and trying to rub my goosebumps away like a temporary tattoo
My mom said there’s wonton soup waiting for me at home.
It’s Friday now and I woke up this morning with the ends of my canopy wrapped around my lower body, and every time I’d move, I’d hear the ceiling hook being challenged by the wrath of my tired legs. It’s starting to really annoy me now.