Friday, February 14, 2014

A Valentine's Day Post About Marriage and Mosquitoes

They say that in Hyderabad there are three seasons: winter, summer and monsoon.  I'd like to add 2 more seasons to the list... mango season and mosquito season.  Unfortunately, we're in mosquito season.  (Mango season is still a few months away.)

When we open the front door in the morning, we are greeted with a cloud of buzzy little blood suckers.  The windows in the car are constantly being rolled down to shoo out a pesky stowaway.  The management of our housing complex are constantly having the neighborhood sprayed, leaving us in a smoky, stinky haze that drives the mosquitoes from the plants outside, into the house.  If one thing is good about the hot, summer season that we are moving into, it is the fact that the mosquitoes will soon disappear.  Until then, we have a coping routine.

Before we climb into bed at night, we lock up the house, check on the kids, and then the hunt begins.  Our bedroom door is firmly shut, as is the bathroom door.  One of us will arm ourselves with the mosquito zapper.  The other will often grab a pair of socks.  We start with the curtains.  The sock holder will shake and tap the curtains, driving out any hiding mosquitoes, into the path of the waiting zapper.  Then, it's the pillows and bedspread, followed by the hanging scarves and the elephant wall hanging.  Zap, zap, zap.  Inevitably, as the mosquitoes are scared out of their safe spaces, some escape the zapper and head upwards.  They end up on the ceiling, visible and mocking.  This is where real team work comes into play, and the socks make their grand appearance.  The zapper will position themselves in the proximity of where the mosquito will most likely descend.  The other person is responsible for throwing the socks at the ceiling, startling the mosquito, and forcing them to start flying.  Once in the air, they're goners.  We toss, we jump, we swing, we say things like "take that, sucker."  We are pajama-clad killing machines.   

By the time we crawl into bed at night, our bedroom floor resembles a battlefield with mosquito corpses littering the ground.  We are victorious.  We have performed in perfect harmony (and laughter and lunacy) to make it through another day of mosquito season.

The light goes out.  We settle into sleep.  And then... there's a buzz in my ear.  Damn.  

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