July 08, 2008

Tick, Tick, Tick...

No, I'm not referring to my biological clock (please, ugh), I'm talking about the damn tick infestation that sees to be overwhelming my home.

On Sunday I found one of the little bastards crawling up Husband's shirt. I snatched a plastic sandwich bag and got the little shit in there, whereupon we doused it with rubbing alcohol and gleefully watched it die.

Here's the thing, though, he and I had just been sitting on the porch swing. Sitting on the porch. Not hiking through the woods around our house, but sitting on the porch.

I, for one, was not shocked, as about a week and a half ago I found a tick on my pants leg while sitting on that same porch swing. I suspect the raccoons are waddling up on our porch and camping out at night.

Anyhoo, last night I was washing Daughter's hair and, you guessed it, a tick. This time I grabbed the Vaseline, which killed the little f*cker and Husband was able to tweeze the thing out of Daughter's scalp.

Look, we're a clean family! Clean to the point of being anal retentive! Husband found some Permethrin spray at work and has instructed me to spray our clothing, NOT our skin. He's going to go douse the cushions on the porch swing as well.

But this is getting a bit asinine; it's almost as if we're trapped in the house!

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