Somebody told me that toothpaste was good for mosquitos bites.
Last night I lay in bed rubbing my legs furiously on the slightly abrasive sheets, which had a thin layer of sand on them from the bottom of my feet, quite unable to sleep. There is no such thing as a satisfied mosquito bite. Trying to break the itch scratch cycle is probably the cause of much mental illness in this country.
A knowledgeable Australian, from the northern, tropical parts, had told me that the worst culpritis are not, in fact, mozzies but tiny sand flies which, apparently, instead of biting you, PEE on you. And they have incredibly itchy pee. I cannot think of anything more anti-social than an insect maliciously peeing on you for no gain to themselves, except the amusement, one presumes, of loutish gangs of them hovering over you, laughing themselves sick as you scratch to pieces.
So, as I cursed the hoard of incontinent midges, the thought of a potential solution being as near as the toothmug in the bathroom percolated through my itch obsessed mind. Groggily, and still trying to scratch, I staggered to the bathroom and found my luckily almost new tube of toothpaste. Sitting on the bed, I smeared the whole of my lower legs liberally in slightly astringent, minty fresh, white cream. Astonishingly, the obsessive itch began to subside and I gradually drifted off to the soothing aroma of Colgate Total.