It has been very hot in these parts. Last night, the Free-Ride family had a picnic in the back yard. There were also some bugs.
Younger offspring: There are lots of bugs out here!
Elder offspring: Don't worry, the mosquitos don't come out until later.
Younger offspring: Good, I don't want a mosquito bite.
Dr. Free-Ride: I know a good way not to get mosquito bites: invite Uncle Fishy over. Mosquitos love Uncle Fishy!
Younger offspring: Ticks, too?
Dr. Free-Ride: I don't know about ticks.
Elder offspring: Hey, when you're tasty, you're tasty.
Younger offspring: Both ticks and mosquitos bite you to drink your blood.
Elder offspring: Actually, only the female mosquitos drink your blood.
Younger offspring: Then I would like to catch a male mosquito to keep as a pet.
Dr. Free-Ride: OK, but how will you be able to tell if the mosquito you've caught is a male mosquito?
Elder offspring: It won't bite.
Dr. Free-Ride: Oh. I guess that would work.
A brief conversation ensued about a way to help a mosquito who is biting you meet an ironic end. I'm not saying anything more about this unless pressed to.
Dr. Free-Ride: Hmm. If mosquitos drink blood and ticks drink blood, I wonder why it is that in stories vampires aren't associated with mosquitos and tick instead of just bats.
Younger offspring: 'Cause there are vampire bats.
Dr. Free-Ride: Sure, but the vampire bats were named after the vampires, not the other way around. Why don't we also call them "vampire mosquitos"?
Elder offspring: Hmm. Well, all mosquitos that are female drink blood, but only some bats drink blood. So, it makes sense to talk about vampire bats that are different from the other bats, but the mosquitos are just mosquitos.
Dr. Free-Ride: I see, the blood-sucking is already implied by "mosquito", so "vampire mosquito" would be redundant.
Elder offspring: You got it!
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The Sprogs Recommend:
Bugs, Beetles, and Butterflies by Harriet Ziefert, Illustrated by Lisa Flather.
There are chapters on bugs, beetles, and (you'll never guess) butterflies. SInce the text in these chapters is all in rhyme, at first you might think they are more entertaining than informational. But there is good information about the range of bug behaviors, and near the end is a four page pseudo-index with names and pictures of all the different insects in the book and the pages numbers for their appearance in the rhyme. House favorites: the Dung Beetle and the Water Boatman.
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It seems you have your choice about how to pluralize mosquito.
A brief conversation ensued about a way to help a mosquito who is biting you meet an ironic end. I'm not saying anything more about this unless pressed to.
Not that your kids will read this anytime soon, but there's an amusing scene in John Scalzi's The Ghost Brigades where a genetically engineered soldier is letting mosquitos drink his nanotech-enhanced blood, and then commanding the nanobots to detonate themselves, incinerating the mosquitos.
Even worse is the friend who kept a mosquito colony for his research. Lab mosquitoes are typically fed by leaving them an anesthetized shaved rat. Unfortunately his particular group of mosquitoes were fussy eaters unable to survive on rat blood so he had to feed them himself, directly into the blood supply of his lower arm. He stopped worrying about insect bites after that experience.
Talk about sacrifices for research. Makes me glad that I am a chemist!
When I was a kid, we referred to mosquitos as "vampire bugs."
And my daughter informs me that having her Grandpa around is the best way to keep from getting bitten, since mosquitos find him tastier (although he doesn't have a name as cool as "Uncle Fishy").
I've often wondered what it is about some people that makes them so much more attractive to mosquitos, but never wondered enough to actually try to find out.
I'm one of those extra-tasty people, and it's miserable. On a patio full of people, I'll be the only one bit, and the bites often make half-inch welts.
My best mosquito bite story happened while hiking on Oahu. I was wearing shorts of course, and was walking ahead of my husband up a little trail when we crossed a tiny stream. Almost immediately, my legs began to itch. Then husband says, "Uh, do you mind if I walk in front? I really can't stand to watch these welts growing on your legs." He didn't get bit at all.
The more I think about it the more I realize it must be some combination of environment (is it chanterelle season, trout season or wild blackberry season?) and access (clothes are so constricting in the out-of-doors.) as surely I'm no more thin-skinned than my siblings and in fact probably less so. Or maybe I just smell better.
And I'm sure if my parents were thinking clearly at the time Uncle Fishy would have been my given name.
FYI: Ticks like Uncle Fishy too. My sister is certified in Wilderness First-Aid, so we were able to extract the blood-sucking bug quickly. Luckily, the tick wasn't carrying Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.