Skeeter bites.

There are lots of things I love about summer: summer dresses, the smell of the ocean, sprinklers, an excuse to eat ice cream for dinner, fresh tomatoes. There are also lots of things I hate about summer. The biggest of these peeves would have to be mosquitoes. I despise those little buggers. If you hadn't realized from my earlier post, there has been a lot of rain around here lately. Perfect breeding ground for those pesky pests.

As I can see it, they really serve no purpose but to serve as food for the bats. Unfortunately for me, there aren't many bats in my backyard. Unless you count the one you use to play wiffleball. There is just me, ripe and ready for the biting. I am currently covered in mosquito bites. Literally. If I wasn't 32 and hadn't already had them, I would think I had chicken pox (or as a Kindergartner once called them "the pops"). I itch. A lot. I'm fantasizing about baths of Calamine. Saturday when the power was out Honey and I along with our neighbors decided that we would hang out on the porch and drink beers that night if the power had not returned. Well, the power came back on, but we had all bought beer beforehand. What's a girl to do? Of course, we drank the beer. We actually drank a lot of it and had a great time in the process. Those darn skeeters had a great time too. Eating my legs. And my arms. And knees. And, if you can believe it, my thigh. (Stop those dirty thoughts right there. I was wearing a dress and the poor guy must've flown up and gotten stuck.)

Four days later I am still suffering. With Fourth of July right around the corner I am prepared. I have bought stock in Off! Well, not exactly, but I do plan on showering in it before I head outside.