My lovely hubby was going on a holiday. His plane was leaving at some crazy hour in the morning so he woke me at 2am to say goodbye and not disrupt me. I smiled blissfully inside the cocoon of warmth of my bed and thought: he’s so nice. Trying not to disrupt my sleep.
Not two seconds later, the banging started.
Apparently, Lovely Hubby had opened the door with the light on (something you never do in the country) and about a gazillion tiny mosquitoes had come inside the house. In order to fully celebrate the apparent sun they had discovered in the middle of the night, they had invited their friends and now there was a swarm of ridiculous size inside the house. Lovely Hubby was trying to get them with a cloth and having as much effect as …well no effect.
Cursing at all Brits and him in particular, I got up to help him. And there were were, at 3 am, swinging kitchen cloths, trying to kill the little bugs but mostly just hitting each other.
We tried putting the porch light on and opening the door hoping to lure them out.
Bad idea number two.
The light only called more of them from the surrounding areas and our porch disappeared under the sheer number of bodies. Instead of throwing the inside ones out, we got another wave of fresh flying bugs inside the house.
In desperation, my hubby got the mosquito repellant and sprayed every inch of the house.
By then, Shane, his trusty friend, had arrived at our mosquito mecca and hubby had to go. So, there I was, at 3:30 in the morning, with the stench of bug repellant everywhere in the house and a million mosquitoes buzzing around my head.
Hubby texted not long after. He was at the flight gate, enjoying an early cup of coffee, already relaxing into his holiday.