Mutant Mosquito

The mosquito was back last night. Frankly, I don’t get it. It’s almost November, the house is a cold as a proverbial witch’s teat and as far as I know, there are no stagnant pools of water in the vicinity. What mutant strand of mosquito is evolving here?

And what’s with the constant buzzing in my ear? Can’t it just suck my blood and go off somewhere to digest? What’s with the constant “Naa naa naa naa naa naa na-naa naa” teasing that’s making me miserable? Is there some mosquito counseling center that might help the species mature emotionally? Some Miss Manners column with a five-step program?

1. Land on unsuspecting prey.
2. Insert probiscus.
3. Suck blood.
4. Thank your victim for the meal.
5. Fly away.

I suppose evolution suggests that I need to be larger physically, emotionally and spiritually here and pity the lower life form. I’ll take some small pleasure in my more varied diet, my opposable thumb and a voice that can sing more than one annoying note. But I must admit that Mutant Mosquito has the superior name for a cool rock band.