I am normally a kind, loving soul. I don't kill bugs. When my students freak out that there is a spider, etc in the class I pick it up and take it outside. Yes, I'm that obsessed.
So imagine my dismay when out and about this weekend I get attacked by mosquitos. So bad so that my hand swelled up to two times it's normal size. The doctor said it is nothing to worry about, so I said ok. Last night I got eaten alive and this morning I have a friggin' blister! Something is definitely wrong with me.
The husband and I have come to some determinations as to why I get bitten and he doesn't.
1. I don't eat meat. One would think that a creature would applaud my selflessness and say thank you for not killing our species so let us thank you by not biting you. However, these dang mosquitos don't think that way. I hate them.
2. Could it be my lotion? I thought this, so yesterday I didn't put anything on, not even deoderant. (It was hot, not a pleasant experience). Yet, my arm is red and looks like I got beaten and my feet are bumpy. That thought process? Fail.
3. Vendetta. In an effort to keep these mama jammas under control I bought a bug zapper. This zapper scares the bejeezes out of me because it lets out a loud zap and sparks fly. (I may exaggerating slightly). Perhaps the bugs are out to get me? That was a bad plan...
For those of you that know me, you know one of my biggest fears is having a My Girl moment. I'm allergic to bees. Now I'm allergic to mosquitos too?!? What the heck? I am, from this moment forward, going to live in a bubble.