As many of you may remember, I had me a mean case of chigger bites last month while staying at my parent's house out in the country. I tried to count all of my bites at the pinnacle of what I call Rancho Relaxo Chiggerfest 2005 (see: The Herpes of Nature) and lost track after 60. And no, that ain't no exaggeration, folks.. Take a little stroll through my parent's land and see for yourself. I can guaran-f'in-tee you you'll be scratching your ankles, legs, and nether-regions to a bloody pulp within 48 hours. Word of advice: don't scratch chigger bites with your nails - I suggest you skip that step altogether and just go out and buy yourself a good cheese grater to use instead. It provides a way more intensely satisfying scratch and gets down to the sinew and bone much more quickly than fingernails can.
A few weeks ago I migrated back to city and my skin was eventually restored to its original healthy chigger-free condition. Only a few small slightly visible red marks have taken the place of those 60+ itchy little sunsabitches that once made my life Living Hell on Earth.
My brother Chuck stopped over the other night to watch some movies with us and drop off some things I left at my parents during my stay there. He had just flown into town that day and was at our parent's for maybe 2-3 hours tops prior to coming out to Minneapolis to spend some quality time with his two favorite people in the world, Mr. and Mrs. Awesome (yours truly and Kimb). Fun was had and Chuck went home.
The next day, something resembling a chigger bite appeared on my ankle. And then another one. Now there's one more on my knee. How did this happen?! Did a few chiggers latch onto Chuck because they knew where he was going and they missed me? It's not like we rubbed our bare ankles together or were cuddling on the couch together naked or anything - at least not that I can remember. Such family behavior only commences after Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Yet here I am with 3 fresh chigger bites on my person and no explanation of how they got there. Kimb is still 0 for 0 in the chigger bite charts and I don't know how she's come this far without any harm. If I were a chigger, I'd much rather burrow myself into soft girl skin over icky, hairy man skin. Any day. Chiggers are f*&kin' stoopid.
I'm guessing I must have put some socks on that may have been laundered at my parent's and there still may have been a few hangers on living on them. I thought I had quarantined and re-washed everything that I had used at the Ranch in the toxic Minneapolis waters upon my return to this fine city. But now that I think of it, I had a pair of socks in my backpack that I think I wore on Sunday when Chuck came over.
It could very well be that we had a cootie flying about in our bedroom that feasted upon me late at night. Last night before falling asleep we spotted one bobbing around like an idiot on the perimeter of the bedroom ceiling. Nothing makes you feel relaxed and ready for a good night's sleep like seeing a big fat mosquito lurking above your bed. All they see when they watch you shut out the lights is the word DINNER! blinking over and over again.
Whenever I'm out with a group of people, bugs will find and chew on me first. OFF! needs to make a special Micycle formula spray that masks my bug attracting pheromones. I would also prefer that it smell like gummy bears and could double as a non-stick cooking spray if that would be at all possible.
Only a short amount of time will tell whether these are chigger bites or just your standard issue urban summer cootie bites from a mosquito or something of the likes thereof. I'll be sure to keep you all posted, because I know you're all dying to know about how many bug bites I have and whether they're the painful lingering weeping kind or not.
