In Texas, they call them “aints”. Here, I call them a huge
pain. I’m talking about those humble, tiny, indefatigable, pestilent creatures
that appear in mega-force during summer anywhere they like in your house to
devour anything edible – ants.
No, they aren’t just for picnics any more. These things are
everywhere.
I tried checking the web to identify them, but the little buggers are so tiny you can’t just grab one to check it out. Identification seems to hinge on characteristics like the petiole nodes, thorax, head, smell, size, and other esoteric stuff. By the time I’m able to pick one up, there isn’t much left of it to identify. I can’t smell anything from the dead ant. Near as I can tell, the ones assailing my house – yes, we are under siege -- are probably the ubiquitous Argentine ants.
It’s an annual event in most households of the southwest. As
the days get longer and warmer, the little suckers get bolder. The web sites
seem unanimous on what they’re looking for, sweets. I can tell you with
absolute confidence these pests will devour any organic material – including
live human flesh. Yes, the critters bite!
We check the toilet thoroughly before having a seat. Getting
bit in unmentionable places may sound funny to anyone listening, but to the
victim, I assure you, it’s not.
They love lasagna.
The other day my wife took the time to bake one of our favorite dishes,
lasagna. After baking it for the appropriate time -- I don’t cook, so I have no idea how long that is – she
sat it on the counter to cool. Bad move. It didn’t take long for the little
monsters to find this delicacy and invite the whole ant empire for the feast.
I don’t believe they even waited for it to cool. Within
minutes there was a dark covering over the dish. And it was moving! An animated
black line that looked like the 405 freeway at rush hour extended from the dish
to a corner of the counter where it literally disappeared at the wall. I
haven’t a clue how they managed to get through the solid wall. I couldn’t find
a hole.
With tears in the corner of her eyes, my dear wife muttered
a few unprintable words under her breath and gingerly transported our now
spoiled dinner outside to the patio table. She spent the next few minutes
brushing ants from her arms and other parts of her anatomy. For the next hour,
we sprayed and washed down the counter and all around the still hot oven. Those
little devils seem impervious to the heat.
Yes, I sprayed insecticide. In early spring, we buy it by the
case. I know it’s poison. That’s the point, isn’t it – kill the things, not
give them a stern lecture and ask them to leave and not come back. Over the
years we tried all the “green” methods to get rid of them, Windex, soapy water,
baits…you name it. Maybe it’s a matter of instant gratification, but
insecticide spray works immediately. It takes a while to clean the spray
residue and little dead ant bodies away, but it’s well worth the effort.
Apparently, any fugitives tell their comrades stories of the ant massacre since
they don’t usually return to that spot for a while. The rest of the house seems
to be fair game, though.
We learned to keep our food in sealed containers. You need
to make sure they are sealed tight, though. If there is even the slightest
room, the ants will find it and squeeze through. The refrigerator is a good
place to keep the ants out, although, one year I found them climbing through
the Ice dispenser hole. They must have found a place to get ant overcoats and
crampons, because I know they don’t like the cold.
I have a theory about the ants that invade our homes. Don’t laugh. I think they come from another dimension. Try this experiment: Say, you find an ant in the middle of your dining room table. Kill it and make sure there are no more on top of the table. Wait just a split second and another will appear. I know they’re fast, but there is no way they can get from the edge of the table to the middle in that amount of time. They have found a way to shift between dimensions. They’re aliens, and they are out to take over our world.
If that sounds crazy, it’s just because the ants are making
me that way.
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