Saturday, May 24, 2008
So there I was, peacefully sleeping in, like I get to do on the weekends when the Mister gets up early with Eleanore instead of me, when suddenly I'm awaken by loud slapping noises and heavy breathing. I open my eyes, to see Christopher standing at the end of the bed, swatting himself repeatedly. "Whats wrong?" I ask. No answer, just more slapping. "What are you doing?", I pry. Still no response. I can tell it has something to do with some kind of bug. Or, a bugga bugga, as Eleanore likes to call them. After another 2 or 3 nagging questions, I finally get a one worded response. "Ants".
...Since when do we have ants? We've had scorpions in the kitchen. We've had giant tarantula sized wolf spiders in the bathroom. We have crickets, pill bugs, and pincher bugs everywhere all the time . But ants? They usually stay outside. So he opens up the closet, to find small, medium, and large ants swarming all over his clothes. They're not sugar ants. I don't think they're fire ants. What other kind of ants are there? Army ants... what do they do? Maybe that's the kind. Where did they come from and why are they there? Kitty Bomber has not been doing her job as bug exterminator. When I picture ants, I usually picture them invading a kitchen, or living in dirt. Not hanging out on my husbands collection of t-shirts. He sprayed around the outside of the closet door, to kill the ones that had wandered away from ground zero, and to keep the rest at bay. While he was kneeling on the ground they covered his legs. This he must not have felt, because when I cleared my throat and said "your legs are covered in ants", he freaked out, and started all over with the self slapping.
...Any ideas on what to do from here? Because as of right now, the plan is to take out every piece of clothing, re-wash it, and then poison the bunches with ant bait. I bet etsy user weirdbuglady would hate to stumble upon this blog.
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