It Offends Me

My foot is offending me. It is staring at me sullenly, as it throbs incessantly. The ant bites covering it's top stare smugly at me.

"Ha!" the pulsing ant bites say. "You can't defeat us. You thought you were safe didn't you? You thought hanging Halloween decorations in the dark would be fun. But you didn't think about us. You didn't think about the nest we had built. We were minding our own business until you stuck our enormous foot in our home! How would you like it if we stuck our foot in your house? HMMMMMM????

The ant bites on my foot pierce the red irritation of my skin. Annoyed, I glare at them. Then I resort to desperate measures: I begin dragging my foot along the carpet. After a few rounds around the house, my foot still feels like it's on fire. It's begging to be scratched as the ant bites cackle in their white-bump glory.

"It's going to take a lot more than that! Feel our wrath!" The white bumps on my foot double with itching. I have a desperate need to scratch them. I consider using the knife on the counter to cut them off. No, don't want blood on the carpet.

This time, I drag my foot back and forth quickly, using the counter for support. If any one was watching, they'd be very confused. I look like I'm doing demented lunges. It still burns.

After dumping a bottle of recovered benadryl on my foot, I'm becoming desperate. I feel like an animal with a foot caught in a trap- as the time grows nearer, I'm increasingly considering gnawing off my own foot.

I try everything. I dump ice cubes, toothpaste, baking soda and even soap on my foot. Nothing. Then suddenly, I look down. My foots stopped itching. The top of my foot is red with white bumps scattered around- but they're not itching! I've won! I've beat the beast!

I fall to my knees, full of joy that my foot is not itching. Then I feel a twitch. The twitch turns into an itch. And my feet are on fire once again!

"We're back!" the bumps sing. "We promised we would be!"

You see, my foot. It really offends me.