Friday, another mom on the playground asked me if the “ants showed up yet.” “What?” I asked. “Oh, it’s my fault, I left cookies out on the counter last night.” She was talking about the ants that invaded her house. I was feeling a tad bit superior b/c we didn’t have any ants inside our house. In fact, with the exception for a brief couple of days last year, we have never had ants in our house. Unfortunately, the second we entered the house, Charlie spotted an ant. I assumed we brought it in with us. No such luck. Five ants later in our kitchen and I was freaking out. Typically, I want to see all living things thrive and I don’t want to see them hurt (one of many reasons why we don’t eat meat). However, when it comes to my home, all bets are off. I feel like it is a personal attack on me when bugs or mice (we’ve had mice!) come into my home. I become obsessed. I want them gone! Right away, I got out the vinegar and water. I vacuumed and washed the floors. A few hours later, I spotted some more. I refused to go to sleep until Gadget Man (or I) went out to get some ant traps. Three days later and here they are again! I cleaned the floor again and ten minutes later, I spot some. I recently read that an ant can smell a crumb 100 yards away. With two little ones, a dog, and a husband who eats over the kitchen sink, we don’t stand a chance!