when he stepped on an ant?
Dead ant, dead ant ... dead ant - dead ant - dead ant ...
Okay, I know that was a really, really bad joke. But I have been having violent thoughts toward ants ever since we returned home from a two week vacation and, upon unpacking, discovered ants here and there; the fact they were not everywhere had us more than a little confused about the source.
First we first discovered a few in our pantry, which floored me because I had just cleaned that pantry; in fact, take a look at my clean, organized pantry (and Mom, the pantry is empty because we haven't been here for two weeks ... I DO, TOO, FEED MY BOYS!).
Then we discovered more than a few swarming in the bread machine Papa had given us just as we were leaving Virginia Beach. It was a new machine, but it had been stored in Papa's garage so anything was possible. Was this the source of our invasion?
A few were found in a suitcase, but it had been stored under the bread machine during our trip home so we thought their presence was perfectly normal.
Two on a bathroom counter upstairs, but we transported them there. Right?
But here's where it gets mysterious: this evening I opened our freezer door and saw a pile of what looked like coffee grounds on the bottom shelf.
Except they weren't coffee grounds; they were a pile of frozen ants.
Nothing sticky. No crumbs. Nothing to entice them. Were they just suicidal?
I peeked into a carton of vanilla bean ice-cream and hesitated: those were vanilla bean specks, right? RIGHT?
I took a deep breath and in a fit of bravery I ... well, I vacuumed up the ants.
Then, in the middle of dinner I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thought: what if the cold put those little beasties into ant hibernation and now that they were out of the freezer there was a massive ant resurrection going on in my vacuum cleaner?
Is such a thing possible? In my near panic state Michael Crichton popped into my mind. Yikes. I jumped out of my chair, grabbed the vacuum cleaner, and threw it into the backyard.
There. I felt better.
But, just to be sure, no ice-cream for me thank-you-very-much.