That’s what it was. Just a little itch that woke me up Sunday morning. I lay in bed listening to the stillness of an early Sunday morning, the sound of the birds chirping, the breath of a little girl sleeping soundly next to me, and I went to scratch that itch.
God Dammit! I swore out loud when I craned my neck and contorted my body to look at the bottom of my butt cheek cause I just knew that little black thing sticking out of my saddle bag was a tick. A damn tick bit me in the butt.
Why it was just last week that I said to my husband as I pulled off another tick walking up his calf, “Boy ticks sure like you, don’t they?”
Had I not said that to him, I may have been able to go another year without finding one of those little tiny blood suckers attached to my body. But no. Karma came and bit me in the butt. Literally.
So I padded downstairs to where my husband was spending a quiet early morning and I bared my butt cheek and asked him to Get this %$#$! thing off me. In the nicest possible way, as it WAS Father’s Day.
The little sucker had his head so far up my butt cheek that, when my husband tried to remove him, only his body came out. His head remained in tact. Stuck in my now red, itchy and aching but cheek.
We had to break out the big guns — skinny tweezers and some magnifying eye glasses. But alas, my heroic husband freed me from the bastard arachnid thing, put some neosporin on it and poured me a cup of coffee.
Now I have this constant itchiness accompanied by an ache in my butt cheek. The area where the tick was is red and swollen and hot. It gets worse before it gets better my husband tells me. And he knows. He has had his share of tick bites, being a woodsman and all that.
Ticks are just gross. In looking around Google trying to find a picture to go with this blog, YUCK. I won’t even put one up. Gross little suckers. Gag.
I am pretty sure it was not a deer tick. They are smaller than a pencil point. This one was likely a dog tick, one that got a free ride indoors on Checkers and sneakily hopped off and found a nice place to bite.
It’s a wake up call. I have not been good about checking myself for ticks. I am just left with an itchy bite that will go away soon. But it could have been a deer tick. I will be more diligent next time. I usually do a once over on the kids, and with my husband, more often than not, I grab one that is still in the walking up his leg stage. Checkers has the tick collar so they don’t usually bite him. They go elsewhere. This year I have actually found them walking up my baseboards.
It’s awful. May have to call Tick Ranger after all.
Between trying to dodge rabid mosquitos and now with the ticks being so brazen as to actually bite me, I just might stay inside all summer.
Or at least on my screened in porch, with a nice glass of wine and a magazine to keep me company.