Friday, 9 October 2015

Have I Created a Monster?

This is the story of why I got yet another night of no sleep. It was close to 1 'o clock this morning and everyone was in bed. Squish had woken from his cot and settled into our bed some time before  and was lying in his usual position across my face (always super comfy for me of course). I was blissfully unaware of the parenting fail that was about to ensue.


So there I was, semi-asleep and minding my own business when I heard the ominous high pitched whine of a mosquito buzzing right in my ear. I switched on a nearby light and my worst fears were confirmed- my little boy's leg was covered in mosquito bites.

THIS - WAS - WAR!!!!!!!

Sure, we don't live in a malaria zone or anything (unlike a fair portion of South Africa), but once on of these suckers have a taste for your blood they are always back for more.




I looked around and spotted the culprit, settled on dear hubby A's back, about to take a swig of his blood.  So I did what any kind, altruistic human being would do and gave him a hard slap on his back. This whacked our mosquito friend off but unfortunately did not kill him (the mozzie I mean- despite having just slapped this poor man I genuinely harbor no ill feelings towards him). A wakes up momentarily, I tell him I was saving him from the deadly fate of the mosquito and then he rolls back to sleep.

I spotted him on the ceiling, just above the bed. Standing on the bed, I was still a centimetre too short to whack him with a issue. Then I spotted a soccer ball in the room (presumably left there by one of the kids that evening) and decided to throw i at the ceiling in attempt at catching the evil one. 

Miss. 

I try again, unsuccessfully.

I switched on the other lights. Squish woke up and sees mommy with a crazy look in her eyes throwing a soccer ball around. 

'Play soccer' he says.

'No, mommy is just trying to catch a mosquito that is trying to bite us'.

' Spidey bite us' he says.

'No... mos-kee-to'.

At this point A wakes up and asked what I am doing. 

'Just trying to catch that sucker'.

'Sucker', says Squish. 'Sucker, biter'. Squish points to various points on the wall and tells me that is where our villain is. 

'Daddy, daddy, the skeeto eat my fingers up' he tells dad.


'Oh no' I tell A. 'I think I have created a monster'. That was the worst thing I could have said to my imaginative toddler, who was recently introduced to monsters by his big sister. 

'Monster' says Squish, with a genuinely scared look in his eyes. 'Monster eat fingers.'

Oh no, my poor little boy has no clue what a mosquito is, I can only imagine what he is picturing in his mind. 

'No my baby. There is nothing to be afraid of. No monster. Just a tiny little mosquito'. 

'Monster-skeeto' he says (now holding on to me for dear life). 'Monster-skeeto eat fingers up'.

'No my baby, the mosquito won't eat your fingers up, now go back to sleep'. 

At this point, I can no longer spot the mosquito but still hear the buzzing. I give up the search, copiously marinate the entire family in mosquito repellent and cover us tightly with duvets (despite the current heatwave we are experiencing). Squish stays glued to me for the rest of the night, no doubt scarred for life by the monster-skeeto I have created. Let's hope no trauma counselling is needed after this one.