Sometimes you have a memory so unpleasant you just want to forget it. Sometimes you do so well that you actually forget about it...until something reminds you.
I usually take a bath at night principally because I like feeling fresh when I go to bed. The other night was just like other previous nights when I would get in the bathroom after dinner. I was looking forward to spending a few hours writing my book and then conversing with the wife on Messenger.
After rinsing off the last soap suds, I took the towel off the rack and began wiping off. I was wiping my chest when I felt a painful sensation. I quickly pulled the towel away from me and looked in horror at what looked like two dozen red ants on my chest! The painful sensation extended into my back so I knew there were a number of the crimson critters there as well.
I stopped wiping and poured water on myself again. The stings were excruciating! It was an effort to keep my fingers from scratching. The pain lasted a couple of hours but by the time I went to bed, it was almost gone.
Lying in bed, the memory of what I just went through seemed to pale in comparison to a previous experience I had about four decades ago.
I had been given a reddish, brownish (damn this colorblindness) bath robe that I had been using for about a month or so. I took it out of the closet and put it on. Almost immediately, I felt that stinging sensation on my back and I hurriedly tore off the bathrobe.
The inside of the red bathrobe was now an even darker shade of red. There was a seething mass of hundreds, maybe even a thousand, red ants! I quickly ran with the robe, took it outside and let it bake in the sun. I never found out what the ants were doing in my bathrobe and I never wore it again.
