Remember that camping trip we went on last week? The one where my husband cried in the video because he was being eaten alive by mosquitoes. Yeah...that's the one. Well I am somewhat upset about one of the outcomes of that trip. See when Brian gets a mosquito bite he feels it. He can swat at the offending mosquito and at least make an attempt to kill it. He may end up mosquito bitten, but he has wreaked havoc on the mosquito population anywhere near him by killing a number of their little friends. Mosquitoes don't stand a chance around him.
Then there's me. I don't feel the mosquitoes when they bite me. My kids were swatting at mosquitoes all evening. Brian was crying and whining about the mosquitoes, and I just sat there. Occasionally one of the kids would smack me under the pretense that I had a mosquito on me. I didn't believe them, because I never felt any biting me. I could see the bites on my family, but I was immune to those mosquitoes. Or so I thought. 2 days after arriving at home I started feeling those bites. And at last count I had 23 mosquito bites on my left leg below my knee. 23! The right leg has just as many. I have three on my face and neck. I have some on my back and one in an unmentionable place. I have been taking benedryl, because I can barely stand the itching. And the thing is I wouldn't mind the bites so much if I had gotten a few punches in myself. I just sat there and let them eat me. Mosquitoes heed my warning. Next time I even so much as see a mosquito I am spanking me some mosquito butt. For real!