At first it started buzzing around my head, but I was engrossed in something on the 'net so I just waved my hand and shooed it away. When it started flying close to my eyes, I stopped what I was doing, picked up a flyswatter and waited for it to land so I could get my revenge. It landed my my bare thigh and I saw it wasn't a fly, but a huge mosquito.
When I raised the swatter to whack it, it flew off. I still wanted to kill it, especially with the recent West Nile cases in Texas. I waited for the mosquito to land again and it did, very near to where it had landed before on my leg. I slowly raised the swatter but it took off again. It didn't fly but a few inches when it landed again on my leg. I lowered the swatter and watched.
It kept taking off and landing, looking as though it was testing the best place to stick me. It tried at least a dozen times until I finally swatted it with the flat of my hand. It was just a smashed piece of flesh on my palm, but there was no blood in it, so I must have not been bitten.
I got to thinking that it was the first mosquito I had seen this year and then started remembering all the times over the last few years when I was with people who complained of being bitten but I never was bothered. I recalled a time when I stopped by the side of the road to take a photo of a horse in a nearby pasture. To get to the fence, I had to go through a damp ditch with knee high grass and swarms of mosquitoes making a cloud around me...but not being bitten. (I was more concerned with a rattlesnake in the high grass, to be honest)
I haven't been bitten by a mosquito in years and years and I don't think it's a coincidence that the last time I suffered mosquito bites was before I developed diabetes. A quick Google search shows plenty of folks with diabetes complaining they are bitten more than their non-diabetic friends, so that's probably not it. Still, there's got to be some reason.
Maybe I'm TOO sweet for the skeeters, both literally and figuratively. Nah, that can't be it. The mosquitoes probably avoid me because of my sour disposition.
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When I raised the swatter to whack it, it flew off. I still wanted to kill it, especially with the recent West Nile cases in Texas. I waited for the mosquito to land again and it did, very near to where it had landed before on my leg. I slowly raised the swatter but it took off again. It didn't fly but a few inches when it landed again on my leg. I lowered the swatter and watched.
It kept taking off and landing, looking as though it was testing the best place to stick me. It tried at least a dozen times until I finally swatted it with the flat of my hand. It was just a smashed piece of flesh on my palm, but there was no blood in it, so I must have not been bitten.
I got to thinking that it was the first mosquito I had seen this year and then started remembering all the times over the last few years when I was with people who complained of being bitten but I never was bothered. I recalled a time when I stopped by the side of the road to take a photo of a horse in a nearby pasture. To get to the fence, I had to go through a damp ditch with knee high grass and swarms of mosquitoes making a cloud around me...but not being bitten. (I was more concerned with a rattlesnake in the high grass, to be honest)
I haven't been bitten by a mosquito in years and years and I don't think it's a coincidence that the last time I suffered mosquito bites was before I developed diabetes. A quick Google search shows plenty of folks with diabetes complaining they are bitten more than their non-diabetic friends, so that's probably not it. Still, there's got to be some reason.
Maybe I'm TOO sweet for the skeeters, both literally and figuratively. Nah, that can't be it. The mosquitoes probably avoid me because of my sour disposition.
