Oh Bugger

When most people get a mosquito bite, that's the end of it. They get one. One measly little nip from a winged thing that leaves an itchy bump. A bit of anti-itch lotion on it and it's forgotten about.

With me, when I get a mosquito bite, I get more than one. 5 this time, 7 last time. (Although, optimistically, this means I'll get only 3 next time. That's how it works, right?)

These bites turn into welts, which quickly turn into large lumps the diameter of a softball. Last time I could barely walk because the bite on my knee made me unable to bend my leg. This time, the bite on my hand was so swollen it was painful. I took a lot of Benadryl, which means I got a lot of sleep, and kept ice on my hand for 3 days straight.

The biter is still floating around our house somewhere. I only know because the b-word just flew by my head. Good news is Dan did some research and learned that only pregnant females bite you and they only eat once. Bad news is that now I know that mosquitos can live 100 days. And there's a pregnant one flying around our abode, trying to lay her eggs.

I immediately checked every sink and shower to make sure it wasn't clogged and flushed every toilet for good measure. There will be no standing water in this house for the next 100 days.

There is however quite a bit of standing water outside, due to last night's downpour. Anyone want to volunteer to come over and drain these mini ponds? Perhaps pour some bleach into them? I'd ask Dan but he's currently in class. And going out there to do it myself seems like I'm asking for trouble.

I'm a prisoner in my own home. Because of a bug.