Last night we returned home after watching fireworks in Moorhead (rescheduled due to an amazing storm on the 4th). After getting everyone inside for the night (which involves opening and closing the doors numerous times) I go into hunter mode. My weapon of choice is a Pampered Chef fly-swatter and I'm relentless.
Here's how it went:
Now, I'll admit that I go a little beserk about mosquitoes in my house. It's a form of self-preservation. Mosquitoes LOVE me. I don't know how many times I've been awakened in the middle of the night by the unmistakeable buzz of a mosquito coming in for a landing...and a midnight snack. This never happens to Jay directly. He suffers indirectly when I lurch upright from a dead sleep swinging madly at the air in front of me, slapping my head, and frantically begging him to turn on the light so I can find the little bloodsucker.
Anyway, last night I circled the rooms of our home with the bug swatter in hand. I'd killed about 20 mosquitoes while Jay sat at his laptop at the kitchen table catching up on all the important developments of the day. When he'd finished he got up and started to walk toward the back of the house. Almost immediately I hear a loud clap and a "Got cha!" (Jay never does anything calmly that can be done with gusto and relish.) He's very proud of his kill (probably thinking that maybe that was the mosquito that would have awakened me--and therefore him--in the night) and off he goes.
Having found all of the mosquitoes that I think are in the house, I sit down to check my Facebook and end up killing the remaining million or so mosquitoes that I'd missed and who came to find me as soon as I sat my bug swatter down. All of this is WITH mosquito repellent on! Did I mention that mosquitoes love me?