I've always had issues with ant bites. They get huge and blistery. If I get too many, I start feeling nauseous. Even if I come in contact with dirt from an ant hill, my skin starts to itch. I figure that they have their saliva all over those mounds and my body just can't handle it. It's not that I want to be able to handle ant saliva, but it still is an annoyance.
My house in Georgia had huge ant hills in the front yard. Normally I avoided the area, but there was one day I did not even think about them. My neighbors' nephew, Edgar, was visiting from Mexico. He was older and very attractive. He spoke no English, but he was always out in the street in front of my house playing baseball with his cousins. I was constantly trying to get his attention. I will admit there was a topless streaking incident, but that did not work out so well.
I had a new plan. I decided that I would show off my gymnast skills. I am klutzy by nature and have no such skills. I started trying to do cartwheels and tumbling in my yard in front of Edgar. He never really noticed. I just kept trying even harder. Eventually, I cartwheeled my ass right into the anthill. I pretty much busted that mountain of hell right open and the ants swarmed. I started shrieking and running and trying to brush the angry ants off of my legs. I was wearing my trademarked short shorts so they had plenty of flesh to bite. In all the pain and terror, I saw that Edgar finally was looking at me. It was for the wrong reason, but it was better than nothing.
My legs were a hot, scary mess. I've never had so many bites in my life. It was all oozing flesh and internal sickness. I wrecked my body all for a strange boy who couldn't care less about me! I couldn't really blame the ants, I destroyed their universe. I could only blame my boy-crazy self. I think that was probably the last time I tried to do a cartwheel and the last time I tried to show off for some stupid boy.
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