The Homeland Adventure Channel

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Today's episode: Spelunking for Amateurs.

We will explore the deep and dark domain of the homosaphieus-teen, an immature breed of the biped species rarely seen during the daylight hours.

Before we set out on our grand adventure, we must make necessary preparations. Collect and inspect your gear before each excursion, you never know when it may save your life. Today we will require several laundry baskets and garbage bags (be sure they are empty!), a vacuum cleaner, an unused bottle of disinfectant spray and new roll of paper towels, cattle prod (just in case), elbow-length rubber gloves, flashlight and, most important, a commercial grade breathing mask. Cameras are optional, but be sure yours has a working flash.

And we're off! From our beginning place in the living room, we search through hallways and stairwells for signs of our specimen... Oh, we're in luck, a trail of discarded clothing! Picking up each piece leads us to a closed door. Making sure our mask is in place and gloves are on, we spray the handle and wipe it down. Slowly turning the handle, so as not to startle the specimen(s) inside, we find that the door only opens two feet.

Not to worry, we are prepared. Using the cattle prod, we reach around the blocked entrance to chip away at the debris piled up behind the door. After twenty minutes of arduous labor, the door swings free and we can enter. The scene is amazing! Shedded heaps of laundry cover every surface, overdue library books and school papers mixed in. Towels are hung over the closed drapes to keep out the dreaded sun and empty bottles and cans line the bookshelf. Somewhere, there is a closet... we must keep an eye out for it.

As we begin stuffing our baskets and bags, we come across several treasures long forgotten. So that's where my $140 cashmere sweater disappeared to. Ugh. A stapler, three cups, a plate, spoon and fork, two dozen pens and pencils, a whole ream of copy paper (ruined), the coat that nobody could find so I had to go out and buy another one, and... oh, please no! It's Bitsy, my last surviving doll from childhood--her body is missing.

It takes several hours of clearing away clothes and garbage, empty snack wrappers, dried out glue bottles and sticky lollipop sticks, before we find the specimen's sleep nest. Every spare pillow and blanket not already claimed (and some that were) lay heaped upon the surface. As we peel back the layers (cattle prod at the ready), we are relieved to find no bodies, living or dead. However, the final layer before reaching the mattress is a sheet worn so thin with heat and body oils, drool and whatnot, that it only comes off in pieces. We are careful to remove every bit before dousing the mattress with Lysol.

Bed cleared, we now have access to the heavily shrouded windows, and waste no time in throwing back the curtains. Sunlight streams into the cave, lighting up the dark shadows in the corners. A hiss comes from the far side of the room. Stand back!

A three-foot mound on the floor begins pulsating. With the cattle prod in one hand and Lysol in the other, we wait. A hand emerges, followed by a head and more hissing. The creature rises, angry and squinting...

"Mom! What are you doing?"