I have an uncanny ability. There can be one mosquito in a room of 50 people, and it will find and bite me. As a bonus, I'm allergic to the little bastards, and their bites turn into horrible, itchy welts that I scratch into plague-like lesions.
Last night my partner and I took the dog for a nice walk along the river. I had had some hope recently that something had changed, and maybe I was no longer quite so succulent, because I've had very few mosquito bites thus far this summer.
Sadly, they were just waiting for the right time to pounce. This morning, I woke up and found at least 3 or 4 lovely new mosquito bites.
I will bet you money that my partner didn't get any. I haven't asked him yet.
I hate mosquitoes. I really, really hate them.
