A broken toe and a pretty mean mosquito

A broken toe or at least the knuckle part has rendered it almost impossible for me to walk across the room. I must look like a very poor surfer as I flay my arms out in every direction with each step.
The thing is I don’t really know how I did it. I mean I can remember stubbing my toe on the step the day before but that was one of those swear like mad for thirty seconds and then it was gone moments. Waking up this morning with my foot swollen and in so much pain does not make sense when related to that.

The Cat, who I rescued from a life in a hedgerow only a few months ago I might add, has shown his true colours by allowing me to sit down before demanding the door to be opened. I was expecting a little more in the sympathy stakes than that. Billy-Bob (Named because he has an almost toothless grin and was the only name I could think of that sounded like a hick name) has taken over the house and nothing would change my mind that they remember that they were once worshipped as Gods.
To add to my woes I have come across what must be the meanest mosquito in the Northern hemisphere. I have a six foot fourteen stone frame and yet she chose the one spot that would cause the most discomfort. You got it she bit me on my broken toe. I now can’t satisfy the overwhelming urge to itch it without sending a thousand volts of pain shooting up my leg.
Seeing as I have an almost Budistic way of thinking about the natural world it seems a little unfair to be honest.

Andy Beveridge

PS: Female because only they have mouth parts. Make what you will of that.

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