Got The Bug?

My younger sister Laura and I used to share a room when we were kids. Except for a few glaring things, it was a mostly satisfactory arrangement. We'd stay up late and complain about how crazy our parents were, how sloppy our older sister Margie was, always getting caught drinking and making out with boys, and how New Rochelle was full of snobs and imbeciles. 

One of the disadvantages to the shared room was that Laura hated open windows with fresh air, and I loved a breeze, even in mid winter. I'd scoff at her wussy "hothouse flower" ways, and she'd pout and often tattle on me to Mommy who always took her side. (That's another 5,000 blog entries, no, that's a big fat book.....) 

The other down side to the shared space was the amplified horror when either of us got "the bug." Even though the windows in question all had screens, (and were usually closed, because little Laura often got her way), somehow a stray mosquito would occasionally get through, and then proceed to torture us all night with its buzzing and dive-bombing. We knew we were in for a dreaded, sleepless night when either or both of us whispered to the other, "Oh no, I've got the bug!" Pillows would fly, and we'd spend

the night on a killing mission. Finally, all would be thankfully silent, and we'd figure the Oppressor had moved on to torment Harold T. Fields next door. We'd snuggle back into our beds, exhausted and grateful to be safe again, close our eyes, and drift off to dreamy sleep. Until sooner or later "the bug" would return to cruelly taunt us with its relentless buzzing and dive-bombing.

What would we all do without a sister or a brother to tattle on us, gossip with, and share nights of terror with?......

Drifting off, hopefully without "the bug",

Susan Lager