Not the version that you find on Facebook, but this could be a new application with an interesting twist: Try to avoid being eaten alive by mosquitoes the size of Buicks.
For every mosquito that you smack on a dear friend’s face, another good bud’s bald head, or someone you don’t know’s back, you get points. You can use your points to get sprayed with Listerine (this was a new deterrent I’d not heard of, but that appeared to work at least for a while) or with Off! repellent.
You would have had to have been at last night’s barn party to fully understand this scene. One of my nearest and dearest, B., was celebrating her son’s high school graduation. (We’re all still marveling at how these kids could grow up like this, yet none of us has aged.) When the sun went down, the mosquitoes came out. And they were hungry.
Miraculously, I’ve spotted only one mosquito bite. While they were all over me, they didn’t bite my exposed skin. (Which had been religiously sprayed by B. with repellent.) Instead, they preferred to burrow amongst my hair and dine on my scalp. I have collections of tiny knots on the top and sides of my head. Which, I suppose, is why my face was puffy and beet red this morning.
It was a glorious, beautiful day. (B. has an incredible track record for ordering good weather.) In June, in St. Louis, it was cool enough that some people were wandering the grounds of the Plantation House in jackets! Did I mention it was June in St. Louis?
It was a mix of family and friends, mostly family, so I felt even more privileged to be part of it. It’s been fun over the years to get to meet, and in some cases, get very close to my friends’ families including children, spouses, siblings, and parents. I’ve talked before about the circle of friends and how those relationships make up so much of my life. The added beauty of that circle has always been the many weird and wonderful ways it has converged with each individual’s own circle.
It was funny to watch the guest of honor get progressively more restless as the evening wore on. He was a very good sport about it though, allowing us to fawn over him and patiently enduring conversation after conversation about him (in third person, while he looked on.) I remembered my own anticipation at my small post-graduation celebration with my family and how I just wanted to bolt to get to my friends.
Things haven’t changed much. Just the faces, the calendar, and the names on the diploma.