Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The ants go marching

As surely as spring follows winter, as the sun rises in the east, as water finds the lowest level, the ants come marching into the house. It's an inevitable rite of spring. Year One The ants came in the back. Nick didn't get mad, he got even. He googled "ant destruction" and printed out a ream of instructions for getting rid of the ants. Scientist that he is, he organized experiments to evaluate the effectiveness of each technique. After an horrific three week battle, the ants were driven back with vinegar, yeast, and caulk. Year Two The ants made a surprise attack into the front door. They found the crumbs in the big blue chair, left by sloppy snackers. Nick came home from work to find the chair crawling with ants. He vacuumed them up and went to get the vinegar. Then, and the horror of the memory is almost too much to bear, the ants started crawling out of the vacuum. Nick screamed and put the vacuum out onto the front stoop. Lesson learned - we use the shop vac now and then immediately take it out back to be rinsed. The ants were once again driven back with vinegar, yeast, and caulk. Year Three Nick made a pre-emptive attack. He put out the yeast and splashed the vinegar out the back and front doors. The ants outsmarted him and came in the side door, where they found nirvana, aka the kitchen trash can. While battling the little beasts on that front, Nick was distracted from noticing that a separate contingent had come in the back. The grey Berber hides them well and we nearly lost the house to them. Eventually, Nick prevailed but the cost was steep and paid in sanity. Year Four Last week, they tried hiding in the Berber again. Nick drove them back ruthlessly and with amazing alacrity. We even got a little cocky about it. And then this morning, they were in the kitchen. Jacob found one by the trash can. He has been listening a little too closely to his mama (who can endure most, but not all bugs), and he refused to squish it. He picked it up and carried it outside. We ate our breakfast in mild tension, wondering where and when the next ant would be found. Then! Five ants! In formation! In! The! Middle! Of! The! Kitchen! They have paratroopers! It's the only possible explanation. Jake ran screaming into the bedroom with Claire shadowing him. "Ants! Dad, wake up! We have ants! We have ants! I'm going to scoop them up and put them outside!" Nick's eyes popped open, the whites showing all around in terror. I rounded up the children and managed to get them in the car. Nick, awake and angry, set to the ants. I don't know the outcome yet, but I suspect it was bloody. Or perhaps vinegary. Listen up ants, you might as well find some other house to invade. I know our kitchen floor is full of goodies. I know that the trashcan holds rotting food beyond your wildest imagination. But we are bigger than you, we are stronger than you, and I do believe that we might just be smarter than you. Watch your step, because I'm not watching mine! Bwa ha ha ha ha!

5 comments:

Lisa @ The Plain-Spoken Pen said...

Ugh, ants. One year I found them in my closet, of all places. Nowhere near anything remotely food-related. Good luck wiping them out.

cheribear said...

Chili powder, Christy. Everyone here swears by it. You need to get a case of chili powder.

Laura said...

LMAO - My personal form of ant destruction has one name. Exterminator. And he is all powerful. :)

Nikole said...

I had to laugh. I know it's not funny but the way you told it sure is!

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