Mosquito City

We should plaster this sign in our front yard. The mild winter made this summer's infestation bad enough, but when one buys a house next to a creek, mosquitoes and a multitude of other insects become a way of life. We love our house, and we love the location. We have great bug spray that Leah Marie makes from scratch. The problem is that mosquitoes love Thing 2; he's a five start restaurant to them: the mosquito world's version of fine dining. Even coated in bug spray, Thing 2 cannot get through a round of outside play, no matter how short, without multiple bug bites, which he will often scratch to hemorrhaging. It will keep it up in the middle of the night or simply distract him from the myriad of tasks that occupy his life.  Because Thing 2 loves playing outside (possibly more than Thing 1, which is saying something), he spends a lot more time than we would like him to spend in the bug infested area, but we can't keep the boy from playing outside. Boys and outside go together like, well, I'll say cream cheese and bagels, since the thought of eating that just popped into my head. Even though we live in Mosquito City, we love living in this house. Everyday, I take the time to say to Leah Marie, at least once, "This is our house." It gives us the warm and fuzzies, in a sense. I would like to write more, but I have literally started falling asleep about six times while trying to type this post.