This is the reason why that mosquito bites you and not him

Like a madman, I swing around my ears. It works. For two whole minutes. ‘Honey, are you asleep? Honey. There's a mosquito in the room. I'm going CRAZY.’ He groans and turns over. The mosquito issue is ignored. ‘I'm going to turn on the light and catch that fucker, you know. I've already been bitten FOUR times.’ ‘Look, please, go to sleep. I have to get up at half past 5.’ ‘Yeah, you obviously don't care. You never get bitten.‘

Recognizable? Then you're just like me, in trouble. The ‘compliment’ that mosquitoes find my blood tastier is something I no longer see as positive. Those beasts have been irritating me for years. On vacation, in my bedroom, in the garden: like a bunch of rowdy bloodhounds, they manage to find me every single time. I can almost hear them singing a ‘nananana’ in a buzzing choir as they fly in a wide arc around Sander and decide that my cheek is the perfect place to pour that Bloody Mary in. It sucks. Literally.

Unfair as it is, I'm figuring out this morning why I am always the one who gets bitten by mosquitoes. And I can tell you: it doesn't get much better. Apparently, it was even in the news this week. Mosquitoes in a room with two people tend to land on the one with the biggest... stinky feet. I kid you not. Aromatic toes, they seem to really love those. By the way, they are attracted to the smell of sweat in general. They can smell it from thirty meters away and can get a bit turned on by it. So as if that wasn't bad enough, I also have sweaty toes. Nice, right? And yes, I DO make a mountain out of a molehill when it comes to a mosquito.