Shoo, swat, smack, ouch, damn, scratch… it’s amazing! Seven people sitting here on the deck, talking and enjoying the stars — and I’m the only one doing battle with these invisible blood-sucking bastards. I look like I’ve been stricken with St Vitus’ dance, or in the throes of a damned seizure. I don’t mean to make light of those two unfortunate conditions — they are not laughing matters. But neither are these infuriatingly itchy welts rising on my flesh.
And mosquito repellent, what a joke. About the only thing this crap repels is my little Shih Tzu, Edgrrr, when I come back in the house smelling like a chemical dump. I have tried creams, salves, ointments, oils, sprays, powders, even a special hi-tech invisible electronic barrier. Oh sure, like that really worked!
The only thing I know for certain can offer protection against those micro-monsters is me, for anyone else sitting with me. You are safe from the attack of the Culicidae horde if I am anywhere near. I am the preferred target, and all my friends and family know it. There is one benefit to being “skeeter-magnet” me — I do get invited to a lot of summer picnics and deck parties.
blood-sucking kamikaze
and I’m the target
rob kistner © 2019