“Mom, we’re heading over to the neighbors for a bonfire and s’mores!”
Nothing fills my heart with a mix of dread, desire, and guilt quite like my daughter’s excitement about this invitation. Don’t get me wrong—I genuinely like our neighbors, and who doesn’t love s’mores? Bonfires are cozy, and there’s something magical about gathering around the flames as dusk settles in, while the kids chase fireflies.
But then there’s me. I enjoy sharing stories, roasting marshmallows, and mingling with neighbors. Unfortunately, I’ve also been blessed (or cursed) with a body that seems to be an all-you-can-eat buffet for mosquitoes. Seriously, they can find the tiniest exposed patch of skin and go for it. So, I usually opt out of these outdoor get-togethers to save myself from the inevitable itchy aftermath. Yes, it really is that serious.
A few weeks ago, my husband was out of town for two weeks, and my neighbors invited my daughter and me over. I couldn’t refuse; she was so thrilled, and I had previously dodged all invitations by sending her or my husband instead. My time had come.
I geared up in light-colored, long-sleeved clothing and drenched myself in DEET—some of which I accidentally inhaled. At that point, I even contemplated whether this new method of suffocation might somehow prevent mosquito bites on the inside. Because let me tell you, those little pests will find a way to bite you, regardless.
I even sprayed some bug repellent in my hair—my long, luscious locks—before pulling my hood up over it. Naturally, it didn’t take long before they zeroed in on me.
I tried to bob and weave while toasting marshmallows, cracking jokes, and helping my daughter assemble her s’mores. I even squashed one mosquito against my sweatshirt, leaving a little red mark—probably my own blood. But nothing deterred them; they were like tiny, relentless ninjas, and I was their prime target.
“Mommy, why does the sign say ‘close the door’?”
Let’s just say my family doesn’t fully grasp the situation. Even when I emerge from summer looking like I’ve had a bad case of chicken pox, my mosquito bites don’t quite communicate the extreme itchiness I experience, nor do they understand the importance of closing the door behind them.
It seems everyone in my family has a knack for asking me questions while leaving the door wide open—especially the back sliding door. They’ll ask me vital questions like, “Can you turn on the sprinkler?” or “Do you think these chicken breasts are cooked?” all while leaving the door ajar. The worst is when they say, “I’m just grabbing some bug spray; it’s so buggy outside,” while leaving the door wide open.
In an effort to end the repetitive nagging, I turned my newfound passion for hand-lettering into a solution. I created a lovely double-sided sign and affixed it near the sliding door handle. One side reads “Keep door closed,” while the other states “Mom says close the damn door.”
I put it up when my daughter was outside with a friend. As soon as she came in, she quickly shut the door behind her. “Mom?” she asked. “Why does it say close the damn door?”
“Because I mean CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR!” I replied. “No one listens to me, and I’m tired of saying it a thousand times.”
She’s improved at shutting the door and not asking questions while standing in an open doorway, but my husband? Not so much. Perhaps I’ll need to create a sign just for him and hang it a little lower—he’s 5’11”, so maybe around 5’8”.
This morning, as we rushed out the front door for camp, I heard my daughter yell, “Mom! We opened the door and a mosquito FLEW OUT OF THE HOUSE!”
Pretty sure that was the little jerk who bit me along my waistband during dinner last night after my gym session. Each night, the mosquitoes trapped inside my house seem to pick a body part for their feast. One night, they targeted the inside of my knees; another, my hairline and cheeks. They leave little itchy marks that resemble connect-the-dot drawings, which I’m convinced illustrate a middle finger emoji.
Last night, I went to bed slathered in essential oil bug repellent, smelling like a giant citronella torch. This morning, I only spotted a couple of new bites—maybe a partial victory?
So, I apologize if I can’t make it to your cookout, nature walk, or bug festival. I would love to enjoy the outdoors like everyone else, but I can hardly enjoy being indoors during this itchy season. Just know that I wish I could be one of those people who can move through life without being a target for pesky mosquitoes.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to swing by my neighbor’s house. She generously offered me her mosquito net from her time in the Peace Corps. If I can find someone to lend me a bug suit for outdoor excursions, you might just see me again before winter hits.
In summary, the struggle against mosquitoes is real, especially for the overly tasty among us. While the joys of summer gatherings beckon, the itchiness can be overwhelming. So, whether you’re enjoying the great outdoors or trying to fend off those pesky bugs, take a moment to appreciate the little things—even if it means dealing with a few annoying bites along the way.
Keyphrase: mosquito bites and summer gatherings
Tags: home insemination kit, home insemination syringe, self insemination