Since the end of last spring we have had ants in our kitchen and eating area. On and off throughout the summer, I warred with these little buggers. We had weeks where they were a distant memory and then, they would reappear. I even got the kids so fired up, that their "alarms" would go off and the sounds of children screaming, "ANTS!" would sound through the house. Even Owen gets into it. I'd come around the corner to find them, nose to the ground, squishing these invaders to oblivion. (And then we washed our hands *wink*)
Although this is not a family pastime that I would like to continue, it has been a good way for us to fight off a common foe and see how we handle frustrating situations. I cleaned like a mad woman, even putting off breakfast one morning to practically hose down the kitchen. I was diligent in my efforts, but they seemed to always find some other avenue for finding miscellaneous food. My kitchen has never been cleaner, and yet, they come.
But these ants. In the midst of calling them an assortment of colorful names (in my head, of course), I began to admire them. They're tenacious, single-minded in their purpose, and are not swayed by the occasional obstacle. Heaven knows that I could use some of their stamina, drive and even flexibility.
What I don't need is their presence in my kitchen.
Who knew that a small insect held such deep insight?
Ps. I've used a variety of products, which work for a while. Now, I'm glad to say that having the Orkin man for a neighbor is good thing.