So we've developed a bit of an ant problem in our kitchen. Not that we're ferocious slobs who attract infestations, but the little buggers seem to love our kitchen floor. So Sarah makes a call to the landlord, landlord makes a call to the exterminator, exterminator makes a call to Sarah, and an appointment is set. Voila! He came this morning with his tank full of delicious chemical water. Here's the conundrum. Despite their diminutive stature and lightning-quick life spans, I have always hated killing bugs. When I find any little more-than-four-legged creatures in my house, I always carefully carry them outside and release them into the great outdoors (earwigs and mosquitoes being the two exceptions). So I've been riddled with guilt over this whole ant killing business. The main reason Dave and I decided to go through with it was that we didn't want them to find their way to the cat food, which is, naturally, on the floor. So now I'm feeling guilty (damn Catholic guilt!) and sad. The little things will never make it back home to their nest; the battle was lost for them. Poor ants. But yay cats! Now their food won't start moving on its own!
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1 comment:
Maybe you should just have Dave schedule exterminator appointments when you'll be at work. Then you won't even know they've been there. :)
I'm excited that you are blogging! I would add your blog as a link on mine, but I don't know how.
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