It happened in Michigan

We we're headed out to the beach to enjoy the tranquility without yesterday's strong winds.

As I got closer to the end of the driveway, just before getting to the road, we both heard a thud and felt the car hesitate, like we had just hit something.

I quickly stomped on the brake pedal and jammed it into park.  My wife was yelling, asking me what we hit as I was getting out to investigate.  Slowly I walked around to the front of the car. 

My worst fears were confirmed.  There, laying on its back, was a full-grown male mosquito.  I could see one of its wings had been damaged and it was bleeding.

As I stared down at it I could see it grimace in pain, then it looked up at me, just waiting to see if I was going to finish it off. I couldn't - even though I wanted to.  By this time my wife had gotten out and walked around to see for herself.

"Crap, I hope this didn't leave a dent."

Just then the wounded mosquito attempted to move its wings and kick it's feet, in order to right itself.  We both jumped back.  "Get in the car."  We both scrambled back into the front seat.

"Lock your door." I then brought the shifter down into drive.  "Hold on," I said, as we slowly drove over what felt like a large speedbump.

As long as I live, I'll never forget that horrific sound.  Imagine a very ripe watermelon, coated with a layer of crunchy Dorito's, add in a brief, high-pitched squeal and you've got it.

We may require serious counseling after this.

Or, maybe just me.