Dang ticks

You know I curse those things. I once was a free spirit in the woods, running about in my tank top and shorts. Lyme disease changed all of that. When I got infected, my free-to-dress-as-I-please life changed. Now I am an overdressed woodsman, ready to pass out from the heat.
Bro and I have to overdress for the temperature while we clear the land, which makes it doubly hard to do the work. It was like 80 the other day and there we are in long sleeves and me with my pants tucked into my socks to keep ticks out.
I didn't know what time of year those suckers came out, but I wasn't taking any chances.
I began doing the tick checks as soon as the snow was almost all melted. Never soon enough in my book.
Well, last night, barely into April, I found one attached to my chest area. Yikes! Once removed, which I do have to admit I still never remove properly, I took a shower and cleaned my wound. I hate them.
BTW, I had no regrets drowning it and I hope it suffered all the way down the bathroom drain.