Ants, Ants, Ants

I'm starting to get bugged. The ants just won't go away. Everyday, I see some in my kitchen, so I get out the poison, spray the places I think they are coming from, and then wipe up any stray crumbs in case the food is calling the ants. Just so everyone knows, there are many stray crumbs because my kids eat like rodents, always nibbling. Why can't they inhale their food like their parents do? Taking big bites is the least messy method; however, choking does increase by 20%, yet sweeping is reduced by a whopping 98% (percentages are based on numbers that sound nice to the author).

If I've learned anything from Disney, it's that animals and insects can read and talk. So I've left out the bottle of poison on the counter to inform the ants of their fate if they continue coming into my kitchen. Right now, there is only a small number of ants, but if I don't keep killing, their entire commune will move in.

Other insects in my house don't bother me as much. Most insects are solitary and friendless. I feel a little sorry for them. I know what it's like to be alone and have no one to hang out with, and then, suddenly, someone comes by and stomps on you. But ants are like those people on Facebook with thousands friends. If they lose a friend, no big deal; another friend will take its place. And ants bounce back way too easily. You squish one with a mighty squish and think the battle is over, but the ant pops itself back up and keeps moving. It's like one of those horror movies when the monster won't die. You turn your back, and the ant is reassembling itself and continuing on its journey. I'm sure there is a lesson in all this. Maybe it's that reaching a piece of chocolate is worth the chance of death—Hansel and Gretel thought so. But the ants would have a much better life, with all their limbs attached, if they waited for my kids to drop crumbs outside, which they will start doing once the weather gets better. Until then, I'm going to Costco and buying the super-sized container of insecticide.