If you're easily disgusted or averse to ticks, consider this sentence your warning.
A few weeks ago I was telling someone that I didn't really like golden raisins because they remind me of those swollen yet shriveled deer ticks I used to pick off of my dog Annie in the summer. I didn't think this was a particularly peculiar stance, but the person I was with acted so surprised and disgusted that I realized a lot of people have never even seen a tick, let alone been bitten by one. I guess they're a bit less common if you don't live in the middle of nowhere.
Regardless, I feel like tick bites built character in me as a small child. One summer day, when I was in late elementary school, I remember coming inside after running around in some tall grass outside and looking in the mirror that hangs in my parents' foyer. To my absolute horror, there was a tick attached to my eyelid. My eyelid. I kid you not. The thing had bitten right into my right eyelid, and I promptly lost my cool. I'm pretty sure I called my mom at work, and she told me to get my older sister to pull it off since her fingernails were much longer than mine. Not wanting to wake my sister up, and (mainly) being a stupid and cocky kid who thought she was entirely self-sufficient, I pulled it off myself. I don't remember how I did it, but I'm fairly certain I didn't do the smart thing of using my left hand to hold my eyelid taut while I pulled with my other hand; I just went for it and I think it hurt a lot less than I'd been expecting.
Anyhow, this post didn't really have a point. I was just eating some granola and the raisins in it reminded me of summertime in Missouri.
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