Mosquitoes

I was bitten by mosquitoes one day (I don't exactly know when) and woke up the next morning with red dots on my body. I've been bitten by mosquitoes before, many times in Canada, but it's been quite a while since they have itched as much as these have. The itchiness associated with these bites is quite phenomenal, to the point that putting on a shirt and having the clothing rub against the bite is enough to ignite the raging scratching fury!

I figure I must be more allergic to Chilean mosquitoes than I am to Canadian ones. Perhaps the chilean mosquitoes are unfamiliar with my camping habits of swatting mosquitoes and collecting them in a heap by the fireside table as a warning to the mosquito population that their nemesis is near? Perhaps chilean mosquitoes are unaware of the hatred I bear towards them? Their aren't many things that infuriate me to the point of entering a destructive rage, but mosquito bites are one of them (another is getting hit in the head - leaving a cabinet door open, bending down to pick up a quarter and then standing up only to knock my head against the open cabinet door, turns me into the incredible hulk where I lose my mind and want to destroy everything in the room). These bites are puffy and red and so very difficult to refrain from scratching.

I don't know why, but I tease myself by gently scratching around the bite in an attempt to ease the irritation. The end result is a test of mental fortitude, resisting the temporary satisfaction of a vigorous scratch. I'm pretty sure you can see the strain on my face as my body clenches every muscle in an attempt to fight off the vile temptation of temporary scratching relief. I scratch myself by proxy, using an instrument (like a pen), fooling myself into thinking that the instrument is scratching and that it's not actually me. I "X" the bite with my fingernail, in a ritualistic manner, exorcising the demon itch. I show Lori the physical damage that these foul insects have done to me, yet little does she realize the psychological damage the bites have carried. I lie awake at night wondering when the next bite will come, yearning to catch the next mosquitoes in the act. While in bed, I flail wildly, like a horse tail would, smacking at non-existent mosquitoes that i "feel". I over heat under the bed covers, all in an attempt to shield myself from further attacks. I try to enter a zen like state, going to an itch free place where soothing cool water or aloe vera is covering my body (I don't know why I go to that place in my mind).

It's really a testament of mental strength when I ward off the itch attack. My victory brings a smile to my face. I can do anything I put my mind to! I can probably walk on hot coals and not feel a thing. I can use the force to move objects with my mind!

Then Lori gives me a hug, gently rubbing the mosquito bites again, restarting the process ...


PS. More la silla