It's December, two days before Christmas, I'm living in Greece -not in Australia- and it feels like summer. I have a Christmas tree in my living-room and mosquitoes all over the house. Something is definitely wrong here.
Most of you know that I don't like summer and that winter is my favourite season. The funny thing is that one of the main reasons I don't like summer are mosquitoes. Et voilà! Now I am killing them while singing "Jingle Bells"! They are ruining my Christmas Zen, they are messing with the Christmas Spirit and I -desperately enough- believe that we will also eat lamb together in Easter.
No matter how many I kill -close to 100 since September- they keep multiplying. How many females do exist? Where do they hide? How many more babies do they plan to make? Where the hell do they lay the damn eggs? Why in my house? And why don't they bite me but instead they just wake me up at night by VZzZzZing in my ear? Why God WHY???
Had I not have the electric racket (aka the ultimate mosquito killer that burns them to death) I would be lost now. This ugly thing has saved my life. In fact I enjoy so much using it that I've even mastered Rafael Nadal's moves. The sound it makes while burning them sounds like hallelujah to my ears. And every single time I wish that this mosquito would be the last one. But no. They never end. My eye caught another one in the morning and then I missed it...
So Dear Santa if you hear me, I don't want you to bring me anything. I just want you take them with you. Thanks.
