I used to believe there were crocodiles under my bed because my big sister (+5yrs) told me there were.
She also told me she was a witch and she was going to send me away if I didn't do everything she said.
I didn't dare to 'tell on her' because the consequences were too terrible to contemplate.
So: I couldn't get out of bed unless she was there with her magic 'wand' ( I think it was the copper stick) and spells, because I thought the
would bite my legs off.
There were good and bad outcomes for this.
GOO
I learn bladder and bowel control
par excellence at a prodigiously early age
BA
I am a seriously disturbed adult in need of deep and probing psychoanalysis.
I have informed my sister that she has blighted my life and told her she is personally responsible for my inability to diet successfully.
She is probably to blame for my Paul Clarke obsession as well, but she has enough guilt to deal with for now
AND I think the additional guilt would be assuaged by her hysterical laughter!
(BTW, I am STILL a bit nervous of what is lurking under non-divan style beds
)