My Evil Bedpost

Rfc1394-Double-BedThere are only two things that make me swear: stubbing my toe in the middle of the night and aluminum track storm windows.

Last night…I did it again.

It doesn’t matter whether I am half-asleep or awake, or how wide I swing around the bed. It doesn’t even matter whether I am coming or going, I will inevitably clip the same toe on the same bedpost.

It is a toe that I have broken multiple times, and the bedpost knows this, which is why it targets that toe.

Why does it do this?

Because it is evil.

My bedpost is possessed by malevolence that goes deeper than human understanding.

Just like my storm windows.

My aluminum track storm windows were designed by Satan himself. Many consider them his best work. Currently, every storm window in our house is either jammed up or down.

It is not that they refuse to budge, because they will move; but only up if you want them down and only down if you want them up – and in exchange for any motion at all, they exact a toll in smashed fingers and slashed thumbs.

Therefore, you can see why I say my bedpost and aluminum track windows are evil. Their mendacity is palpable.

So when I stubbed my toe, I swore.

(*%^&^#$(*&^%$%#

I swore so loudly, so creatively and with such vehemence that I not only roused my wife but stampeded the cattle up the hill and sent the sheep across the road into a swirling panic.

In the morning, my neighbor came by to complain about his sheep.

“You stubbed your toe again,” he observed.

“Yes,” I told him, “my bedpost hates me.”

He nodded in perfect understanding.

“I suspect it is possessed by a demon,” I told him.

“That’s pretty common around here.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure,” he said, “it’s because of the swamps.”

You see, the landscape of South Central Minnesota was once dominated by an endless morass of noxious, nasty marshes that even normal swamp creatures would have nothing to do with. The Lakota gave it a wide berth and the Ojibwe steered well clear of anything the Lakota avoided.

In short, what lurked there was downright unsavory.

But in the last century, stubborn Germans and bullheaded Dutch settlers drained and tiled the swamps and put the land to the plow. In doing so, they concentrated all of that noxious nastiness into an area that is known today as The Minnesota State Mosquito Refuge.

It is what borders my property to the west.

“Yeah,” my neighbor said, “I’ve been battling that evil for years.”

“Successfully?”

“More or less.”

“So what can I do about my bedpost?”

“Let me think on that.”

So while he pondered, I rested my throbbing toe on a kitchen chair.

After mulling over the problem for awhile, he suddenly snapped his fingers

“I’ve got it,” he said, “the only other time I have heard you swear like that is when you were cleaning your storm windows. Even the coyotes flee when you do that.”

“True.”

“And your window cussing is louder and longer than your bedpost cussing.”

“Also true.”

“You need to convince whatever is possessing your bedpost that there are meaner and more powerful spirits loose in your household. I doubt if its pride can live with that.”

“What will that do?”

“It will force the malevolent creature of the bedpost to join his buddies in your aluminum track windows.”

“What the…”

“That way they can tag-team you, but look on the bright side, you will only have to deal with them twice a year.”

Author: Almost Iowa

www.almostiowa.com

52 thoughts on “My Evil Bedpost”

  1. Sooooo funny! And, coincidentally, I just wrote a post that featured stubbing my toe on a bedpost. Hmmm….evil bedposts unite? If only 2 things make you swear, you are doing great! 🙂

  2. I think my demons live in the carpet and creep ahead of me looking for things to make me stub my toe. But you’ve got me worried; they’ve never made me break a toe… yet… I shall continue to sacrifice drips of coffee and cookie crumbs to them, in hopes they might continue not to cause me too much harm.

  3. I’m convinced these various demons have cracked the mysteries of time travel. They live about 5 seconds in the future, wait for your impassioned invocation, and use the power of it to travel into the past and cause various bedposts, storm windows, coffee tables, computers, printers, and other hardware to torment you, triggering said invocation. A vicious, evil cycle.

  4. That landfill you speak about is a possibility, hough I don’t know how your wife will feel about chucking the bedpost and windows. It might get expensive and there’s no guarantee evil doesn’t exist in whatever else you put in your bedroom. Or whatever else is left in for bedroom is upset that you removed an evil partner in crime. Dangerous times.

    1. The neighbor whose cattle I stampeded with my swearing came up with an interesting idea. She suggested that I open the windows in summer to allow the bugs in. Her theory is that evil is emanating from The Minnesota Mosquito Refuge because the mosquitoes are driving the demons out. The mosquitoes are really that brutal around here in the summer. The problem is, to remove the screens I would have to get the cooperation of the windows, which is doubtful.

  5. Hilarious! We solved our storm window problem when we purchased new vinyl windows, but I have an evil bed post and an evil bathroom door knob, both of which keep me supplied with perpetual bruises. They may also interfere with my salvation due to the steady stream of swearing they invoke. We are on the verge of a facelift in our bedroom and bathroom and high on the list of priorities is to put in a pocket door for the bathroom sans doorknob, and sell the bed frame in a yard sale. I want a wall mounted headboard without a footboard. Do you think I’ll conquer the evil spirits with this strategy, Greg?

    1. Do you think I’ll conquer the evil spirits with this strategy, Greg?

      Off hand, I could not tell you. I would have to consult my Demonic Bestiary in order to look up that particular species of the damned, unfortunately the book is possessed by an especially aggressive little fellow who won’t let me anywhere near it. When he moves on, perhaps to Google, I will let you know.

  6. I definitely understand the bedpost, the storm windows, and the swearing. On the serious side, my daughter broke a toe last year on a bedpost. So, she bought a pool noodle, cut it up into small pieces and put them around the offending posts. If the color is obvious, borrow some fabric and wrap it. Of course, then expect the increased activity at the storm window site. 🙂 I remember my daughter and SIL writing an essay on why a condo owner should sell to them and not the other folks on the list, and they eventually won out because they played the ‘name’ card. My two-year old granddaughter’s name was Emma, and the seller’s name was Emma. 🙂

    1. Pool Noodles!! [snarf] That is hilarious!!

      I don’t know if I would try that though, the bedpost might find it humiliating and plot its vengeance in an even more unsavory form. Like sneaking into a chain saw…..(shudder).

  7. Watch out also for the demons in the lower shower ledge. (Seriously, I laughed A LOT while reading this, and I hope your toe is not offended.)

    1. Those are bad but the WORST demons of all inhabit kitchen cabinet doors. Ever straightened up after leaning over a counter and caught the edge of a door? It is not just stars you see, it is whole constellations and galaxies.

  8. I don’t know what storm windows are – or do, but clearly you need them else I’d follow Stan’s advice and when it’s all done toss the storm windows into the Mosquito Refuge – could be that three issues are solved in one sweep…… You’re welcome 🙂

    1. There is a beautiful book called Things Fall Apart by the Nigerian author Chinua Achebe. In one chapter, he describes how villagers had for years tossed everything they considered evil into what might be termed a spiritual landfill.

      When Christian missionaries showed up and asked for a place to build a church, the villagers said, “we have just the place.”

      After nothing happened to the missionaries, the villagers figured they were onto something and converted.

      I think there is a parallel in there somewhere.

  9. The worst part of broken toes is that even though it hurts like hell everybody else thinks it’s funny dagnammit!
    *not laughing* 😉

  10. We have an evil bedpost that takes out our knees. I tamed it by putting foam rubber on it. Now it does’t have nearly as much fun trashing us. So it has stopped. But remove the foam rubber and wham! It is right back at it again. Even the lovely and kind and ex-elementary school principal Peggy is known to let go of a few choice words. –Curt

  11. Every time you mention the Minnesota State Mosquito Refuge you make me laugh, Greg. I don’t have storm window challenges (no storm windows), but I have an evil coffee table. 😀

    1. Coffee tables are the worst. I never trust them. There is just something about coffee tables; how they hover below our line of sight, waiting… waiting… and waiting…

    1. In the Dodge County Historical Society, we came across some old railroad maps. We were looking for family that immigrated to Blooming in the late 1850’s. There were maps for Steele, Mower, Freeborn and Dodge Counties, there may have been more. What struck me was how much of the land was lakes and swamps.

      The best visual of this is to stand in Hollandale or Maple Island in Freeborn County and look out across the land. You will see why Maple Island got its name, it is an island. You can see the shore. Check out Turtle Creek near Austin sometime, it is in reality a big ditch that was gnawed out of the land by a three story steam powered digger that drained 20,000 acres.

  12. It’s kind of hard to argue with that logic! But the real trick would be to make the demons that possess your bed post and aluminum track windows leave altogether and move over to Stan’s house.

  13. I finally moved out and left the bedpost behind to haunt someone else. Had the folks who bought our house been a little nicer I would have provided a warning, but karma awaits. I currently do not have a bedpost so I feel exorcized. One will arrive mid-May and I have a bedpost ceremony all prepared. Let’s hope that will be enough.

    1. Had the folks who bought our house been a little nicer I would have provided a warning

      I don’t know how things work in Texas, but around the Twin Cities, you have to submit a weepy letter testifying to what nice people you are with your written offer.

      My son just lost a bid on a great house. His letter was not weepy enough and his bid at $20K over asking price was too low. That is how hot the market is in Minneapolis.

      1. Wow. No in Texas you let the folk know you are packing. That usually puts the offer in a reasonable light. Sorry about the conditions in Minneapolis. That and below zero temps. Man.

  14. It’s a little known fact that chewing gum left on a bedpost overnight will repel evil spirits. As long as it hasn’t lost it’s flavor, it’s efficacious. If you play the song backward, that tip is hidden in the lyrics.

      1. I fixed the broken link.

        Coffee is good. I am drinking coffee myself.

        It is a beautiful morning in Minnesota: sunny, light wind and a balmy 32F, headed for 45F. It is the kind of spring day one spends on the porch.

  15. Be careful. After the spirits leave the bedpost, the ones in the coffee table will see it as their opportunity to shine. Shin pads might be necessary.

  16. My sympathies. Of course it’s better to know who your enemies are and be able to face them in the light of day, so I’d say you’re on the right track! 😉

    1. You have a point there.

      While stubbing one’s toe in the middle of the night might be understandable, doing it in the bright light of day raises serious questions.

  17. I can sympathize. I had a dining room chair that broke my right pinkie toe 7 times no matter how wide a berth I gave it. Do you suppose there’s an evil furniture union?

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