Ants are evil
So let me recreate the scene from my life 20 minutes ago.
I come over to my parent’s house after work to find that they have perhaps the worst ant line…nay, three different ant lines…running from their back door, across their dining room, and to their cat’s foot bowl. Picture each line about an inch wide and solid black.
Turns out, I don’t do so well with ants.
At that point, seriously considered pretending I hadn’t come over, going home and acting surprised when they told me about the infestation later.
Man, I wish I was shitty daughter.
Instead I find the only thing I can to douse them with…Windex (don’t hate..it did the job)..and begin to soak an entire floor full of the little bastards.
K…well that’s not so bad.
But now there are ant carcasses all over the floor.
Grab the paper towels and begin wiping them up. I have a system worked out…all is going relatively well.
Yeah.
Then I hit a patch where there are a bunch of them still alive. Before I know it..ants…cov.er.ing.my.hand.
Its at this point I may have over-reacted a bit..screaming at the top of my lungs…and running…in my flip flops, across the tile floor that I have just soaked with cleaner.
Fall. Hurt ass. Get up. Fall again. Which, I’m sure will all really suck tomorrow, but at the time…still waaay more concerned about the ants now traveling up my arm. And not like one or two here.
I got to the kitchen sink..washed them off…went and jumped in the shower (didn’t do the job..I still feel them on me).
But…um…now what I do?!? The cleaner and dead insects all over probably mean its a little past the “leave and pretend like I never saw” point….
Right?
)
