Bitch on the Blog

January 3, 2010

Bitten to death

Filed under: Uncategorized — bitchontheblog @ 04:24

How to start a new year with an itch: Have a lot of cat fleas hopping about. That’s how.

Which, when you have a cat, might appear to be hardly surprising though never encountered in these sudden epic, nay biblical, proprotions that have descended upon this household. It’s awful. Personally, I blame the central heating.

On the bright side: At least someone loves my blood. SUCKERS!

It’s actually not that funny since I come up in theeeeee most awful big fat itchy blotches which, no doubt, will be pleasing to some people as my attention is diverted from them.

Fleas, like people, are rather interesting. They make educated choices. When the teenage horde stayed over New Year’s Eve –  in the morning – they, myself and the cat compared notes. It appears that fleas have an affinity to me unrivalled by anyone else.

U

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4 Comments »

  1. I wonder why you’re extra popular? What a way to start the new year..not! Good luck.

    Comment by Cheerful Monk — January 4, 2010 @ 02:30 | Reply

  2. Thanks, Jean. See my next entry to go live in a minute.

    I am so little bothered by whether I am popular or not or what people think of me that it almost amounts to a character defect.

    U

    Comment by bitchontheblog — January 4, 2010 @ 03:00 | Reply

  3. About two years ago one of my kids sat next to a kid in school who had fleas, and I was dealing with an epidemic of them before I knew where I was. It takes dogged determination to get rid of them. You have my sympathy.

    Comment by gaelikaa — January 4, 2010 @ 04:13 | Reply

    • Gaelikaa, thanks. Fleas are one thing – Headlice are worse. I pity you with four children on board.

      It takes the patience of a saint – which for once I was – mainly because I only had two scalps to deal with (that of my son and my own though I did check visitors’ hair as well). In fact I became a bit of an expert. I never used sprays just did the combing through wet and conditoner slathered hair. I am ashamed to admit that after the initial disgust it gave me huge satisfaction every time a blood sucker got caught in my fine tooth comb. Why are headlice confined to a certain age of children? Some years ago it all stopped and we have been ‘clean’ ever since. My sister who is rather more brutal (she has five children) cut her son Lorenzo’s beautiful long hair off to save time. I hear that now, at age fifteen, he has professionally done dreadlocks. I shan’t go into the psychology of it – there probably isn’t any – other than that he likes Bob Marley.

      What fascinates me, and then I shut up: I never ever in my life had headlice till the apple of my eye started school. To my utter astonishment my brother’s wife who is the Doris Day of housekeeping, hoovering twice a day, admitted to the same affliction with her two boys. Let’s blame it on global warming. What I’d like to know: How did people cope in the olden days? Monkeys had the good sense to make a past time to pick blood suckers off each other.

      U

      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 4, 2010 @ 05:27 | Reply


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