The Curse of the Potluck Returns
Approximately 24 hours after what can only be described as a singularly successful potluck, fate reared its ugly head in the form of eight little legs and one word: chiggers. Everyone at the potluck Saturday is now scratching uncontrollably and probably cursing the day they agreed to break bread in my backyard.
I won’t get too vivid, but suffice it to say, the little bastards got rather intimate with me, and I have a couple itches that are kind of fun to scratch. Hopefully, a huge bottle of bug poison and an industrial-sized can of Off! will be enough to convince people to return in a few weeks when I decide to do this again.
After the last potluck disaster where we had no lights for about two hours, I thought I had broken the spell and recovered some of my hosting pride. Now it looks like a short-lived fantasy that has been beaten down by a tiny member of the arachnid family.
July 22nd, 2008 at 10:30 pm
Well, I only got a few, so I can’t complain, but our mom used to put bleach in our baths for chigger bites. I think she also used it when we got into poison ivy.
July 28th, 2008 at 12:13 am
At least your potlucks are memorable.