I chuffing hate mosquitos. This may be asking for trouble, but can someone please tell me what their purpose is on this earth, other than plague the hell out of Brits abroad, and (obviously more seriously) killing millions through the transmission of disease?
I saw a few mozzies while we were in Malta, but as I wasn’t bitten didn’t really think anything of it. However, in the course of my packing, I obviously managed to bring a couple home with me. I discovered this the morning after we returned when I found a few fresh bites on me, and also a couple of (dead) mozzies in the laundry that I washed as soon as we got home.
GG went out and bought me a stick-thingy from the pharmacy which is supposed to relieve the itching. It doesn’t work. And so I spent a further two (hot and uncomfortable) nights hiding under my duvet, hoping that I wouldn’t inadvertently stick a limb out from the covers whilst asleep. Of course, I did, and woke (having been dive-bombed by a gleeful insect) with fresh bites on my leg. Grrr.
That evening, I stayed up later than GG, who was asleep by the time I finally came into the bedroom. You can therefore imagine his confusion when he woke up to find me atop a step ladder in our bedroom, brandishing a rolled-up magazine, glaring at the ceiling. You see, I went to get changed for bed and spotted that self same (as I like to think, anyway) mosquito sitting on the ceiling over MY side of the bed. That’s another thing I didn’t mention – GG hasn’t been bitten at all. How is that fair? Anyway, so of course I had to squish it, or spend another night cowering under the bedclothes. So I did. And I slept much better as a result!
I think now that all my Maltese immigrant mosquitos have been squashed or washed, but I’ll certainly be more careful next time I’m abroad to make sure that I don’t bring anything like that home with me again! Meantime, I’m left with the itchy little bumps over my arms and legs, which are really hard to resist scratching. And with a paranoia verging on the insane which makes me scrutinise the walls and ceilings before I turn the lights out at night, as well as shaking out the duvet before I get into bed (another thing that may prove unpopular with GG before long, methinks), I believe that it may take me longer to forget my most annoying souvenir of my holiday than it will take for the bites to subside and stop itching.