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| They went nuts on my pinky |
Mosquitoes. I hate them, and I made my feelings known last night. I told them I feel used. They treat me like an all-you-can-eat buffet during the night, then taunt me by being the first thing I see when I wake up. “Oh good morning Jen. Slept well? Boy, I’m so full. Me and my buddies got you good last night! Yeah, those bites are gonna be really itchy. Goodluck trying not to scratch them.”
I’d had enough. Like Anakin from Star Wars III, I went on a killing rampage. None were spared – young, old, male, female. I squished them all!
This is what our neighbours would have heard:
Clap...clap
Joe shouting: “Did you get it?! Look, it’s behind you!! There!! Get it!”
more clapping...
pause...
cheering.
The pause being when I checked my palms/the wall/door/whatever I squished the offending mosquito against.
There’s a moment of satisfaction when you see that you’ve got one, especially if it’s got blood in it. But that’s quickly replaced with the realisation you’ve just made a mess and you’ll have to wipe all the guts off before it dries and sticks to the wall permanently. I've left a few carcasses on the wall as a warning to the mozzies to stay away. I'll let you know if it works.
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| Feeling a little flat today Mr Mosquito? |
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