I could write about how, after not seeing any ants for TWO WHOLE DAYS, I found a gang (Yes, a gang. A tough one too.) of six (SIX!) ants
I could write about how I sat for 45 minutes watching the little hooligans trying to find out where they were coming from.
I could write about how I fed them some drops of honey in the hopes they'd eat and go back to the nest. And how when that failed I fed them bacon. And how I hated the fact that I was actually feeding them instead of squashing the living guts out of each and every one of them.
And I could rejoice with you, my lovely readers, over the fact that I think I finally have an idea of where they're coming from.
Except that after wasting my free-time during the boys' naps yesterday sitting on the hard hallway floor, then leaving for the afternoon, we returned to find ants everywhere. E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E. I killed at least thirty of them in the first 20 minutes that we were home.
I also developed a twitch.
Clearly those honey and bacon loving little demons took their bounty back to the nest AND TOLD ALL THEIR FRIENDS TO COME BACK WITH THEM.
Either that or the creepiest of all creepy bugs that we found in our tub -a bug that happens to eat carpenter ants- had been responsible for the lack of ants we'd seen for two days (My theory is that those six I found yesterday were a scouting party to see if the coast was clear. I also think that the colony offered up those with the lowest IQ cause those were some STUPID ants. Should it really take an ant 30 minutes to find his way across a 3' x 3' square when he's carrying a piece of bacon bigger than he is?? STUPID ants). So not only did we "look that gift horse in the mouth", but we smashed it with a shoe, wadded it up in toilet paper, and sent it to a watery grave. Thanks gift horse.
Last night I went out and bought some of those little plastic ant traps.
My hopes are not high.