We have recently been having a bit of a bug problem here at The Manor. Back in the winter time I got bitten by somthing so scary it motivated even my children to clean and vacuum their rooms lest it nest on the floors of their rooms and snack on them in the night. All has been fairly well in the bug department until just lately when Cassidy and I have been waking up in the mornings with red welts on our limbs. Of course this being the loving family it is, there are all sorts of jokes circulating regarding the culinary tastes of such bugs, namely how they obviously prefer the flavor of bitch over all other things. My answer to this is that they seem to like younger, hardier bitch over the grizzled, granny type; it seems like an appropriate retort considering the company I keep.
Last night I woke up in a fit of panic when I realized I couldn’t hear any of the children breathing in their rooms, a noise I often listen for in the nights just to make sure they actually exist. Yes, I am that neurotic. It took me a moment or two to remember they are scattered about in various regions this week before I felt burning on both of my ankles. I reached down to scratch the offending limbs, when that brought little relief I turned on the light to take a peek; they were both swollen with welts and burning to the point I thought I might cry. This went on for a couple of hours before I was able to finally fall asleep again. This morning was little better when I found five quarter sized welts on my back. Over the course of the day my back bites have expanded to the size of silver dollars and my ankle bites have found small trails into my veins, creating a sort of topographic foot map. Scary shit for sure.
In order to combat this turn of events we are preparing The Manor for war; tomorrow morning we are setting off the bug bombs we bought back in February but couldn’t quite get organized enough to actually detonate. Part of the preparation includes me getting Devon’s room ready for the upcoming gases. He tends to horde things, make little Devon nests filled with his treasures and he forbids any other family member from disturbing them. One of his favorite spots for collecting is a nook under the stairs of the room he and I share. Back when I moved into the loft above him we had Cody-Juan take out the original loft ladder and install a proper staircase. It curves at the bottom and creates a perfect boy-sized cranny we affectionately call the Boy Cave. This afternoon I strapped a headlamp to my head and burrowed into the cave. What I found was mind blowing, such are Devon’s pack rat tendencies. Not only has he covered every surface with art work penned in Sharpie, but it was filled with so many itmes we have long been searching for in the house. Following is a list of some of them:
- Three pairs of scissors.
- Two notebooks of my water color paintings.
- Six tubes of lip balm.
- Four packs of holiday tissues, two of them opened and snipped apart with the above mentioned missing scissors.
- Three Tootsie Pops, opened and rolled in the tissues.
- Cassidy’s Christmas lollipop.
- An iTunes card.
- Two bathrobes.
- A random phone bill.
- A handful of necklaces and mismatched ear rings, all belonging to Cass.
- Several stuffed animals.
The overriding theme in Devon’s collection is the fact that most items belong to his sister. I suspect when she terrorizes him he retaliates by sneaking in her room, rifling through her things and then stowing them in his cave. At that point it looks like he enjoys either licking her things or cutting them up into small bits. I can’t say I blame him, I somettimes feel like doing the same after a particularly difficult Cassidy afternoon.
