Beasties That Go Bump In The Night.

I swallowed nervously as I looked down the street to the Gomi (rubbish) Gestapo's house.She couldn't possibly be awake at 4.30,could she?I mean she needs to sleep sometime....doesn't she? Even the giant, shiny,very scary looking robot from 'The Day The Earth Stood Still' dimmed it's lights and had a kip every so often.Oh,this is just getting ridiculous,I admonished myself.Here I am,a mature woman,a mother, creeping around at this ungodly hour with a bag of rapidly decaying vegetable peelings and paper.It was only then that I noticed other figures lurking in the shadows."Morning."slurred a face from the neighbourhood as he deftly swung his bag at the collection point and sprinted off with surprising agility.A morning jog I presumed until he suddenly veered,Nike singeing tarmac,into the driveway of his house,his figure swallowed up in the darkness."You are out and about early."she grinned at me.I jumped back startled.Even with a smile on her face,the Gomi Gestapo always reminded me of the witch from Hansel and Gretel,'Just light the oven for me pet,won't you.That's it.Reach in.Right to the back'. I would have returned the grin but she was peering intently at my garbage bag and it's contents.My throat went dry.You can look all you like.My garbage is pristine.No plastics of any kind.Everything is totally flammable.In fact,I doused it with gasoline myself just to make sure.I even sorted the paper out into colours. Leaning on her walking stick,geta (traditional Japanese shoes) adorning her hooves,"Good morning to you too,Mr Watanabe." to which a young man sheepishly stood up from behind a nearby bush,garbage bag in one hand and administered a trembling salutation. Turning back to the task at hand,she turned over a couple of bags with her stick.prodding and poking until one bag emitted a tinkling noise.Grasping it in her bony hand and lifting it with an ease defying her years.....it was said that she had led a successful raid against one of Commander Perry's first emissaries..........her face creased into a frown.The stench of wine mixed with not so fresh other stuff oozed from a hole,a hole now dripping some kind of liquid.Spilling the beans took on a new terrible dimension as together we saw a liquid trail leading all the way to a place across the road."Is today a recycle day,Mr Ito?" she enquired loudly to the sky,as a shutter from across the road was slammed shut suddenly.Turning,bag still clutched in raised hand,she strode now with rigorous purpose.Mr Watanabe raced back off down the road,bag hugged to his chest as the screaming from the house opposite started."As you should know,Mr Ito.We do not mix glass with burnables....."The screaming from inside the house grew even more pitiful with every step the Gomi Gestapo took........

I jolted upright in bed.I could still hear screaming.Not from the house opposite but from Bat Boy's bedroom.Mother mode zooming on,I raced in to see my beloved Bat Boy huddled in a corner.Running to console him,it emerged that 'something big and slimy' had jumped on his face'. Bat Girl was spreadeagled ,comatose on a bed nearby."It jumped somewhere,Mummy! Over there,"he pointed,his little face all squashed up and red like the tissue I use to blot my lipstick every morning.Hubby makes an entrance."Something slimy and big jumped onto darling Bat Boy's face,"I explain....if that actually did explain anything at...hey hey,there's that magic number again....2am ,to which hubby jumped up on Bat Boy's vacant,warm bed."Just in case I tread whatever it is into the carpet,"he replies to my look of astonishment,"You'd better use this to look under the beds,"he kindly advises handing me a baseball bat.   Crouching down,I slowly lift the valence on Bat Boy's bed then viciously swing the baseball bat through space.Nothing.I double check.Nothing there.No onto Sleeping Beauty's bed.Gingerly,I raise her pink valance and just go for it with the bat.Something big leaps out,I feel  warmth.....fur.... scramble over my face followed by an encore of cold,slimy something.It is a frog.A big one now scrambling for it's life into my hair as our resident feline howls with chagrin.Turning to Bat Boy and his Daddy who have finished their own shrieking fit both safely atop son's bed."It was only a frog!Now everyone back to sleep,I'll put him outside in the garden."Our cat most certainly has a thing for raw frog.Third time this year.I turn on the kitchen lights and stepping around the ants,open the patio door to release a very grateful froggie back out into the world.I swear he gives me a little salute before leaping off into the leafy undergrowth.

I  turn and there it is.A black shape highlighted against the white of our kitchen wall.Antenna swirling around,legs fixed.It's there hoping that I don't notice it...big black tank of a beastie...illuminated very nicely against a super white wall...well if you ignore the tomato ketchup hand prints and I don't really want to dwell on what that brown smear might be."Broody 'ell,"huffs hubby behind me,"It's rike