We’ve enjoyed about 2 full months of ant free life thanks to my ceaseless action against our little invaders.
This week marks their unfortunate (for us) return to our little abode. I’m far from thrilled.
I hate going to the kitchen to find them crawling in our kettle. To see them making their way into the milk powder. To find their trails leading into the bin. Worst still is not knowing where they are, breeding, scouring our house for food and water.
I absolutely hate them.
Almost as much as I hate those mynah birds that perch outside my window and squawk at 7am every morning. How I get such a thrill out of shooting them with my toy water gun. They’re rats with wings they are.
Ants on the other hand are teeny tiny rats, that have a hive mind and are all workaholics. In other words they’re like NO OTHER RATS I’VE EVER SEEN.
I bloody hate them all.
Even when they clear out the dead insects in my house… which isn’t often.
It’s a vicious cycle it is. Ants in the house means food for lizards, which means lizard droppings. Another disgusting sight in my house.
Lizards… don’t get me started on lizards. They’re like rats with sticky pads on their feet that allow them to crawl on walls. Horrible wall climbing, ceiling clinging rats. RATS I TELL YOU!
I want to lure all the mynahs, ants and lizards (the house variety only, mind you, chameleons are cool) into a pit in the ground by putting all sorts of sticky sweet leftovers or whatever crap it is they like to eat to get them there. And then I’d nuke ’em. The whole lot.