Tuesday, June 28, 2011

It's Too Late, I've Itched

Wretched ants!  Where there's one there's sure to be a zillion.  This morning I found several in the closed bag of doggie treats on the kitchen counter.  Ok, alright - not completely closed - but closed enough.  One little air hole left unzipped and the bug-a-boos found their way in.  Damnit!  Who did it?!  Who was the last one to give the dogs a treat after taking them pottie last night?  I have my suspicions but for the sake of our marriage I shall refrain from accusing him outright.  Let's just say it was the House Troll.

Dogs, of course, are gross.  They can not contain eating their doggie kibble to their bowls.  They must carry it from room to room.  Aha!  Found a piece on my dining room rug with...ants!  DRAT!!!

My boys.  House rule NUMERO UNO: all eating must be done over the kitchen counter or at the dinner table.  I investigated the Living Room.  Pop Tart crumbs found underneath the couch.  Yes, you guessed it.  I will NEVER buy Pop Tarts again.  Thought:  If I vacuum the ants up will they die and if not, will they crawl back through the vacuum thoroughly pissed off and seek revenge?

Shit!  Now I have the itchies.  Don't itch, Bri.  DON'T ITCH!  Remember the Mosquito bites...Damnit, I itched! 

Of course, I dread investigating the pantry.  I haven't even looked in there yet.  I hate ants!  I'm just going to sit here, itch myself, and contemplate the awfulness which may or may not be waiting beyond the door in my kitchen.  I just don't want to find..."THEM"...






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