Pandora's Box

Well, thankfully fruit fly hunting season is behind us. However, ant hunting season is now in full swing.

I do not hate all insects. On the contrary. In their own environment, they can be quite charming. I love the sweet lullaby of crickets off in the distance as I'm falling asleep in a tent. The goofy gracefulness of a Daddy Long Legs making its way under a picnic table. The elegant wings of a butterfly as it swoops through a ray of sunshine. The tickle of a catepillar crawling across my palm. The delight of lightening bugs flashing their horny glow.

But I will admit I am horrified when swarms of insects invade my home. That fruit fly killing contest was nothing compared to the battles we've been engaging in with ants this month. According to C, even on the news there were jokes that California is in reality just a giant ant hill. This month, I believe it is not a joke at all. The ants are literally breeding in the walls of our apartment building. I should probably spare you the details. Horror movies about bugs? You've seen one or two perhaps? Worse!

When we first moved to California, we lived in Oakland. We hadn't heard about the ants yet. We made the mistake of leaving MC's leftover birthday cake on the counter wrapped in suran wrap. When I woke up the next morning, I noticed the plastic wrap was pulsating in waves. When I looked closer, I realized that the cake had become one giant mass of ants. I did my best to get them out of the house. As I wiped up the counter where the cake plate had been, splinters of wood came up from the counter. In their enthusiasm for their feast, the ants had begun to eat into the wood of the counter!

Since then, we have learned a thing or two about ants. Unfortunately, not enough. Every day they find something new. Yesterday they discovered the cough drops that were in a bag within a piece of tupperware in our bathroom. One day, without thinking, I left a can of soda out while I was in the shower. When I got out of the shower 30 minutes later, one of the cats had knocked the can over and the ants had already found the puddle of sugar water. At least I'd assumed the cat had knocked over the can, though I wouldn't be totally surprised if the ants had teamed up to lay it on its side themselves!

And just this morning, I awoke to discover C-dog had left her bone in the middle of the kitchen floor. A dog bone. We're talking a chewed up old dog bone, without a morsel of meat left on it. And the kitchen floor was like a convulsing carpet of ants. They didn't even bother to make their nice little thin marching band stripe to the source of their nourishment. They swarmed in from all directions creating a spectacular floor decor.

Then this afternoon, I found a few dozen ants in my water glass. There was nothing in there save water. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why they would want my water until I remembered... I'd been eating brownies! They were devouring brownie backwash. Disgusting? I'd say so! It's a wonder why these critters scare the beegeeziz out of me!

I keep trying to tell myself that the ants serve a good purpose. They're helping us clean house in a way. But as much as I try to buy that line, I just can't. The ants, simply put, repulse me.