last night i'm sitting on the couch with the little guy when an (1) ant crawls across my arm. i murdered it immediately before it could tell its friends where we were. i told matt:
"i hate ants. i feel like they are all over me now."
"don't exaggerate, sam. you just feel dirty because you didn't get a shower today." (it's true).
flash forward roughly six hours. i'm in the kitchen with the boy and it's about 5am. we are just coming off of a marathon fuss and we are both exhausted. i'm trying to fix his medicine up (you suck, thrush) when i feel those god awful little feet marching up my arm (no, not jack's). i quickly turn on the lights and am met with a horrific sight: ants. everywhere. all over the counter. i run and put the boy down in the living room (he's crying because it's 5am - crying time) and then i run back into the kitchen. it's obvious that someone found out about my crime from earlier and has rallied the troops to exact their revenge. i take out my weapon, windex, and the battle begins. i find that they have broken in through a light switch plate (??? really??). the slaughter rages on for 2 maybe 3 minutes before i see an end. i return to my young son and we cry it out for another hour before we fall asleep for the "night". hear my words, ants:
you are not welcome in my house.