Mosquitoes

Mosquitoes
I can’t stand them. I have always had bad luck with mosquitoes. For some reason mosquitoes are always attracted to my blood, and my body tends to react strongly to them. I am always the one with huge welts on my forehead, feet, and neck from mosquito bites. If fact, this summer I was bitten so bad on my forehead people thought I ran into something to produce such a big bump.

After last night I decided one of the worst things about Egypt lacking the snowy winter of the Midwest is the mosquitoes are still alive and thriving. On top of that, RGC dumped pile after pile of manure all around the complex about 3 weeks ago and we know buggers like that. Last weekend a few people were in my room and all of us were getting eaten alive by those mosqies so we took a “break” to kill those nasty inhibitors who needed to be evacuated (or killed, preferably) immediately. Within a few minutes, Stephen noticed a few were flying up to my high ceiling, so he hopped on a chair and grabbed my flyswatter (which I bought two months ago for the sole purpose of killing these blood-suckers). “Oh, no, Sarah,” he said as he was squinting up at the ceiling. “What?” I asked. “There are tons of little mosquitoes up here!” Gross, gross, gross.

Thing is, these are not regular mosquitoes, oh no. They are smart cookies, they are. They do not make a sound. It’s practically eerie how silent they are. Secondly, you don’t start itching until they are long gone from your flesh, so you never know you’re getting bit! You can’t feel them; they are quite tiny and light so you never notice them land on you. When you are lucky enough to notice them flying around, they are nearly impossible to kill (hence the flyswatter). They anticipate your swat so well they nearly always get away. Crap! They are the devil I tell you!

At least two nights a week I wake up in the middle of the night because I’m getting eaten by these buggers. Last night was one such night. It goes something like this. I wake up and realize I’ve been bit because I’m all itchy. I try to fall back asleep before I get bit again. If I manage to fall back asleep, I might be okay for the rest of the night. But usually I don’t make it. Instead, I start itching somewhere else. And a few minutes later in another place. By this time I’m annoyed and awake. I turn on the light and sit up, waiting patiently for the bugger to dare make his way near me again. He’s usually too smart and I end up sitting for a good ten minutes with no action. I turn off the light.

Within a minute or two I’m bit again. And again. And again. I turn on the light and try to talk some sense into the mosquito. “Come on now,” I say out loud. “You’ve already bit me six times, enough is enough.” But, no, it’s not enough for that one little twerp. I either have to wait until I can kill it (which can take 20 minutes or more) or I move to another room. Sometimes I use this opportunity to read my bible as I wait. It’s usually calms me down to read about patience and love and forgiveness during these moments. “Okay, Lord, I forgive the mosquito, but he’s still not going to survive the night!”

Needless to say, it’s sad when your Christmas wish-list starts with “Two sticks of After Bite, please.” (And that’s no joke!)