Hate = Mosquitos

Now, my mother always would yell at me if I said that I hated someone because it's a very strong word, not a nice word, and you shouldn't use it.

There are exceptions to the rule though.

Exhibit A: mosquitoes.

I hate them.

A lot.

It all started because of Tropical Storm Fay. There is a lot of water around here just cookin' those mosquito larvae and helping them grow. Ick.

Yesterday morning, I was taking the dogs for their morning walk (we're dog sitting Maggie, the Great Dane) and they were bombarded by the little devils. I mean everywhere. Poor Maggie Moe got the worst of it - probably because she's the biggest of us three. I was trying to swat them off of her, but she was getting upset because she though I was hitting her (she's sensitive). Poor dog.

I guess I thought it was a morning thing or that the damn bugs would be gone when I got home.

They were not.

I walked up to the front door and they were everywhere. And I'm not exaggerating - like probably over 200, trying to obtain entrance to my abode.

How do I get in the house? Really?

So I ran for it, arms whaling (to frighten the mosquitos), opened the door, shut it very quickly, scared the bejesus out of the dogs, and only allowed like 20 of them in.

And then they went after Maggie (and Jake too, I think).

So we spent the rest of the night (not really the whole night, but it was becoming quite fun killing the suckers - no pun intended - an obsession, really, for their demise) throwing either shirts, socks, tennis balls, underwear, or whatever up in the air to the ceiling to K.I.L.L them.

Honestly killed like 10 right when I came home. Then more and more. Kerry (our roommate) was throwing a tennis ball up to the cathedral ceiling trying to get them. I found that throwing a shirt up there traps them and then bring them to our level so we can kill them.

And Jake will eat them if he gets the chance. He's smart like that.

Ohh, and they were bloody. Ick. Those poor dogs (we hadn't really gotten bitten so it had to be the dogs).

This morning I was attacked in the car.

(It's the giant bite on the top of my foot. The little ones on my leg are from yesterday morning from the walk because we went in grass and they flew up my jeans. Grr.)

Side note - I should be happy that I only have five bites because I'm one of those people that the bugs LOVE. Horseflies, mosquitoes, no-see-ums, anything really. They love me.

But I think they love Maggie more.

And this ends my post on mosquitoes.