From busy bee to ant exterminator! This is definitely NOT my area of expertise. Nor do I ever want to claim such expertise. Not because I'm a snob, I LOVE a good exterminator, but because I'm a WIMP! I want as little interaction with these creepy crawlers as possible.
It all started with a Cheerio. James had poured himself a bowl of the tasty breakfast cereal one morning and unknowingly left one lone "O" on the kitchen floor in front of the refrigerator. By the time I was up and around the same morning, the "O" was NOT alone. It was covered in itty-bitty tiny ants. I was unsure what the best plan of attack would be. In the past, I would have picked up the Raid and sprayed it until every last one of those creepers was still. With Tiny Peppers (no, that's not his name) along for every ride, I thought better of this plan. I sprinkled it with Borax. It didn't really kill the ants, but I doused it in water and I then they died. James helped me clean it up. I was convinced that our battle was won!
A week later I had another encounter. I had set an empty pizza box next to the kitchen trash can to be taken out later that afternoon. Two short hours later the box was crawling with more of those disgusting boogers. Sick. At this point my skin was starting to crawl. This time, I wasn't in the mood to be nice. I set the big guns on the problem: James to the rescue! He helped get control of the problem and delivered the fatal blow with a can of Raid. I stepped outside as not to inhale the fumes. It was also very nice to step away from the grizzly scene.
After this battle we were starting to wonder if indeed we had a problem. We hopped in the car and headed to Lowe's to find a better solution. We bought a few ant baits and set them out. The results were immediate. The ants were marching towards their poison in droves. It was amazing the number that turned up!
Within days, we started to notice the results. Dead ants galore. Gross, but I was more than happy to sweep away the remains. I began to notice a stray ant here or there, especially in the downstairs bathroom and the laundry room. On a whim, I expanded my campaign. To my wonder and delight the kitchen was no longer a hot spot, the baits in the bathroom and laundry room were hopping! The little baits turned into ant night clubs and the parties were wild! These parties lasted for a few days. (I'm guessing the bar was eventually tapped out and their party hardy ways were beginning to take their toll.)
I was once again breathing a sigh of relief. I believed the battle was finally over. And then, the strangest thing started to happen. I began to notice rogue agents- all over- on the walls, the furniture, in the carpet... What the heck? Their lack of organization and unpredictability was really starting to"bug" me. My skin was crawling. I itched all over. I really thought it was all in my head, but to make sure, I pulled up the cuff of my pant. To my horror I found an actual ant in my pants! I'd reached my limit.
James was discussing this with a friend today. In their wisdom they have decided that the new erratic behavior of the ants could only mean one thing: Their queen is dead. They have no head calling the shots and it's every man (or ant) for themselves. Could this be the case? Are we close to seeing the end? I sure hope so. I'm not sure I can take much more of these unwelcome house guests.
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| Battle worn and possibly a tad bit "dramatic." |
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