Thursday, 30 December 2010

An Ant in my Pant

There has been an ant invasion in our bedroom - lines of the little beggars marching across the walls, up and down the curtains andround the furniture. Swarms of them had gathered on anything that to them resembled food - a dead cockroach for exmple, being dismembered - if he had been alive he would not have been best pleased! They were threatening to invade the bed so I had to get tough. I'm afraid any Buddhist readers aren't going to like the next bit: I decimated their ranks by aerial bombardments of insecticide and when I thought I had eradicated every last one I brushed them up and literally filled a dust pan with their remains. They died instantly. I've no idea where they came from but I hope they got the message and don't mess with me again!
Late at night, watching a footy match on TV which I had rather regretted bothering to stay up for - but someone has to watch it!, an ant crawled out of my pants, up my shirt and was heading for my jugular.
No mercy was shown - he could have been a suicide ant. If they can down a cockroach the size of a Cumberland sausage, these critters are capable of anything but he had clearly underestimated the ruthlessness of  a British mopping up operation. A lone Nigerian ninja ant is no match for a Penguin paperback novel!

Talking of mopping up operations, I woke up to a flooded kitchen this morning - blocked sink, blocked overflow, dripping tap. A new platoon of ants was making its getaway under cover of semi darkness across the draining board, my theory being that they had dragged the cockroach remains into the kitchen, up the sink unit and hurled them into the sink where they clogged up the plumbing with the sappers of the ant engineering corps. I've not quite worked out yet how they got the tap on! Clearly the war is not over!
(Perhaps I've got too much time on my hands - or the sun is getting to me!!).

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