(Fear of) Mosquitos

Ever since I was young, I have had an ongoing battle with mosquitos. You know those pesky bugs that fly around looking for blood to suck? The one's that seem not to hold any important place in the ecosystem? Yeah, those.

I've never had an issue with bees, as they offer necessary pollonation. Moths I don't mind because they don't bother me. Spiders I actually kind of like since they offer a quick death to the mosquitos I hate. But those darn mosquitos will get you every time, and it takes a while to forget it, too.

Mosquitos have a knack for finding me--regardless of the weather or the time of year. I can come away with five mosquito bites on a hot, sunny day. Even on a nice spring day in March, when mosquitos are supposedly not out yet, I can be forced to spend my time scratching that insatiable itch.

I have memories of mosquito bites swelling up to the size of baseballs on my leg--probably from a day I spent outside, where no one else got bitten.

There is nothing in the world that I hate more than that moment you look down and see a little red circle developing on your skin, when you feel that all too familiar twinge, knowing that the perpetrator is still out there.