A Disgusting Mystery

Every March we fight the Battle of the Ants.  I think the March rains sends the ants running for cover and they head straight for my house.  Every time JAC spots an ant he shouts, "Bug!" and freaks like a little girl.  I am not scared of bugs and refuse to raise a sissy.  I make him help kill the ants, mushing them one by one.

Ants are easier to get rid of than some pests because they like order.  They march in straight lines.  You can follow the line and find the point of origin.  I then break out a can of pesticide and wage Jihad!  I'm a virtual ant killing Mullah Omar.  Sometimes I don my hat from Afghanistan to really get in the spirit of things.

This year the ants were particularly frustrating.  Every time I sat down on our basement couch and was about to check my email I would find tiny black ants crawling on me.  I couldn't find where they were coming from.  I checked under and behind the couch.  I sprayed pesticide at the baseboards and window ledges.  Still the ants marched on.

Finally, today I sat down on the couch and sighed in aggravation.  The ants were still crawling all over the couch.  I had been wholly unsuccessful in my eradication attempts.  In despair I looked to the heavens and instantly received my answer.  Our HVAC vents are located in the basement ceiling directly above the couch.  Clustered around the vent was blob of black ants.  There was a virtual colony of ants living in our duct work.  I waged war!  I sprayed those suckers down with pesticide. 

The moral of the story is don't mess with me.  I have a violent streak.  Actually, I just like spraying pesticide and watching ants die slowly.  Perhaps the better moral of the story is, when you have your head down in determination and still can't succeed it might be time to look up.