September 5, 2012
Hey, have any of you guys ever looked at Kristina's mom's photo diary? She is up there under the 10s of people who follow this blog and she has a photo diary of her daughter (I am guessing Kristina) and she is adorable. I think she is around 5 now and I think lives in Yugoslavia, maybe. Anyway, have a look.
As for life in Cincinnati, I did something very exciting today. No, not the Red's baseball game (though I did do that), but I tried something with our couch. It requires a backstory though.
Every time I lay on our brown couches in the living room, I get bitten by mosquitoes. Before you ask, no they are not bedbugs. Even though Cincinnati is the bedbug capitol of the world (go us!), I know these critters are not the problem. I am the only one in our family that ever gets bitten on these couches. Beth is convinced that I am clinically insane. However, I have visual proof of the bites. I laid there one night for an hour or so and ended up with like two bites on my elbow and one or two on my neck. I also had several hundred on my brain as I could not get past it. I was completely psyched out.
Here is a backstory to the backstory. Whenever we go outside and are near grass, I get bitten. Like chocolate is to Mama Cass is like how I am to mosquitoes. Nice current reference. My blood is delicioso is what I am trying to say. I can walk to our shed and back and my ankles are chewed on more than a turkey leg at Disney World. Beth and CJ can roll in the grass naked and not get bitten once.
So they cared not about our couches. I, however, cannot lay on them anymore. Beth has suggested a professional cleaning and some therapy sessions. However, as I was speaking with a young lady who fosters children, she mentioned how she has to deal with the whole bedbug thing. Pleasant for her-not. Whenever her current foster child returns from his mother's house, she has to take all his clothes and stuffed animals and put them in the dryer on high heat for 30 minutes in order to kill all the bedbugs.
I am making myself itchy simply by continuing to type bedbugs.
Anyway, I thought what the heck? Maybe I should try to dry the couch. It took me awhile to shove the whole thing in there, and the dryer will never be the same, but I did it. In reality, I took the covers off the cushions and dried them for 30 minutes. I haven't laid on them yet to find out, but I intend to soon. Beth does not know I did this, but will soon. When she reads this.
If you read about a man in Cincinnati getting committed to the loonie bin by his wife against his will, you will know that she has read this post.
So here me and my bottle of Benadryl go. Off to have a relaxing time watching television on the couch.
Or maybe I could wear a suit like the boy from the plastic bubble...