I hope this leaves you squirming as much as it does me. I. . .HATE ANTS. This is a time that calls for all caps. I haven't always hated ants, and maybe I really don't . . . No, I do. It started in Texas when as a little girl I realized that my baby sister was sitting on a castle: an anthill home to bazillions of angry, red, fire ants. She was splotchy for days.
Then there was that intoxicating cream cheese frosting with chocolate sprinkles carrot cake that a recent convert made my trainer for her birthday. . .except that before we left our flat that morning, the cake didn't have sprinkles on it. Our mights, minds, and strengths were stronger than usual that day because we knew what was waiting at home.
Me: Hey, I don't remember the cake having sprinkles on it [from the door].
Sis. Hiatt: [moving closer] Yeah, and they're moving around, too. . .
You already know the end of this story, but can I just ruminate on the horror of discovering a colony of black African ants throughout our entire flat? They marched in straight-lined legions from under the beds, across the walls, over the floors, up the table legs and chairs, 3 inches deep into the honey jar, and yes, to their final destination: our treasured remains of carrot cake.
That's the thing about ants: they're smart (they sure do know how to feign dead0; they have good taste (only the sugary sweet stuff tempts them); they look so innocent.
But not in this house. We have been cleaning out our cupboards, disinfecting our counter-tops, emptying our trash, and setting out poison traps for MONTHS and to no avail. I get my Raid ant-killer out often and squeal with terror as I get 'em. I squash them with my hands (I'm an ant mass-murderer). I don't take delight in this. I cannot handle opening a drawer and seeing 15 little black dots pretending to be dead until I draw near and they scramble.
I can do spiders and snakes, high-crime neighborhoods, and graduate school, but get me around some little black ants and I'll be wringing my hands, chills down my spin, letting out horrified squeals of consternation and panic.
Maybe this would qualify for a specific phobia; it is causing marked impairment (in my desire to be in the kitchen) and significant distress .
4 comments:
I have seen my share of nasty vermin. A few of my favorites were:
1)The mouse that burrowed into my couch and left droppings everywhere, inspiring me to burn the couch.
2)The cockroach that was as big as a dog that was in our house in Hawaii. (Okay, not quite as big as a dog, but it was huge. At least as big as a large mouse.)
3)The hobo spiders we get in our basement. These frighten me the most. I'm not afraid of spiders in general but hobo spiders are deathly poisonous.
I've luckily never had any problems with ants, but I could see how it would be gross to find them all over everything.
Ants aren't all that bad; they do our clean up work for us! (And would you honestly rather have snakes or mice?) :)
Um...HAHAHAHAHA. That post just cracked me up. Well written my friend. :)
For me, it's m-a-g-g-o-t-s. And your post brought it all back, yikes. Sundy, you have my sympathy!
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