"I got it in a knife fight in Caracas..."
I am trying to resist the urge to scratch the mosquito-bite scabs that make a curious constellation on my right elbow. I got them all overnight, one night, out in Cape Trib (in the rainforest), where an ambitious mosquito enjoyed the buffet of my elbow sticking out from under the sheet.And now, the scabs itch*. Yes, scabs because I scratched 'em when I got 'em. You would've, too, so I don't want to hear any of this "Ooh, you shouldn't scratch them. You'll get scars..." I'm not so worried about the scars because I think that would be cool to say, "...and these scars are from the wildlife in the rainforest in Australia." Okay, maybe not. That sounded much cooler in my head.
Oh, and we're home (as of the wee hours of yesterday morning). Melbourne is cold.
More to come...(yes, including photos)
*They only recently scabbed up because in the tropics, the warm, bacterial saltwater prevents your booboos from healing. Or, if you manage to scab up, once you get back in the water, they come off prematurely. Disgusting scab commentary: just another serice we provide here at Halley's House of Eww.
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