Posted by: dougery | May 24, 2011

Squito 2: The Revenge of Curly’s Bugaloo

So, it turns out the super painful and otherwise gross, disgusting, red and swollen bite/sting I received last week wasn’t from some rare breed of forest arachnid or a wasp with pharmaceutical grade venom. Which is kind of reassuring actually, since I never saw either of those things, things that I would assume to be big and bloated and neon purple with dangly legs or wings that make an audible humming sound from a few miles away. No the reason I know my allergic bug bite reaction wasn’t from them is because I am no longer the only recipient of said insect malevolence.

Yesterday we got home from Vermont–which was lovely, that you for asking–and after tossing some stuff from the Jeep inside the house, I wandered off to take care of some tree limbs that had come down. By tree I mean lilac and by limbs I mean half a limb. Into the brook with ya! But I digress. The real story happened with my wife putting away the groceries.

She was not alone.

Something was waiting for her inside, something… hungry.

And not just our cats Barry and Pickle who, let’s face it, will likely eat us some day, but not while we are conscious and can defend ourselves. Not, this was… something else.

A mosquito.

/Terrible, long, high-pitched shriek

L says she watched the damn thing swoop down and land on her wrist. Her hands were dirty and she was loathe to swat her clothes so all she could do was kind of dance and shrug the thing off but she was too late. It got her. She promptly washed her hands, tracked the bastard down and eliminated it. A few minutes later she complained of an itch. She showed me her wrist where a pea-sized nearly translucent skin bubble had formed, surrounded by an inch of flesh already reddening in irritation.

I recognized that nearly translucent skin bubble. I recognized it because I’d had one a week earlier.

I was astonished. How were mere mosquitoes capable of this kind of… terror? Because today L’s wrist (same spot the damn things got me) is huge (several inches across) and swollen and painful and hot and itchy. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear she got bit or stung by something big and bloated and neon purple with dangly legs or wings that make an audible humming sound from a few miles away.

Nope, just a mosquito. And given the preferred bite location, I have dubbed these bastards: Suicide Squitoes

After reading up on the topic I’ve discovered that living in the city for so long has made us re-allergic to mosquitoes. Humans can suffer sometimes severe allergic reactions after prolonged underexposure. Or when moving to a part of the world where they haven’t been around the local squito breeds. Particularly, and here I made an audible gulp, ‘microclimates’ such as small valleys surrounded by mountains.


And the really scary thought is it isn’t even really bug season yet.



  1. yeah, this isn’t making me want to visit y’all any time soon.

    how’re the stars at night? ’cause those floating, burning balls of gas freak Eileen out.

  2. on a cloudless night there are more visible stars in the sky than I have skin cells.

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