Ants

It’s spring, and it seems like the world is slowly coming back to life. Flowers are blooming, trees are budding, and grass is greening. And bugs are back. In our tiny apartment, that means the ants are back.

We get ants in the Spring. And I hate ants. These are stupid, little black ants, which are called Little Black Ant, annoy the shit out of me, especially their stupid, unoriginal name. They are easy to kill, and stop, but man, it’s like two weeks of those little bastards just showing up along the edge of the wall. The kid hates them, and also thinks the ants are out to get her. So, we have to have a calming down moment before she goes to bed to make sure she understands the ants aren’t after her.

Stupid ants.

Growing up in Texas, the fear was fire ants, as those assholes are awful. For every kid, there was always a moment when they accidently stood on, or fell on, or kicked a fire ant mound, and those evil guys swarmed, biting the hell out of you.

I remember my dad buying fire ant killer at the local hardware store in the Spring to deal with them. The stuff he bought was a poison in the form of little yellow pellets that he would spread around the mound. The ants would think its food and bring it into the nest. Slowly, over the course of a week or two, the mound would die off, and a little pile dirt was left in the yard, like the ancient ruins of a civilization. I would dig up the dead mounds carefully, to see the tunnels that they had created. It was fascinating that little things could build such complexity.