The Girl Who Learned To Kneel

Ants are like stalkers. They are constantly lurking, just waiting to surface. Not that I’ve had much experience with stalkers. Though I did have a pervert rollerblader in short shorts show me his balls when I was eleven. I didn’t quite know what I was looking at, but I knew enough to be perturbed. Ants perturb me in a different way, particularly as my world is starting to diminish. Yep. Life is starting to shrink at 35 weeks pregnant. My observations are microscopic. Everything has turned inward. These days I don’t read the paper or listen to the news. I fold and re-fold baby clothes, holding them up for inspection. I make sure to take my vitamins. I read labels.

And the ants stand by.

Simon has suggested a radical approach to our ant problem, which I haven’t yet agreed to. He wants to take a piece of bread, soak it in sugar water and borax, and then leave it for a couple of days. Supposedly the ants will be attracted to the sugar, and at the same time ingest the borax, thus spreading the poison to the rest of their affiliates. Our friend tried the method, but had to abort. She couldn’t stomach the brown deluge all over her wall and resorted to a hose. Now, supposedly the ants did disappear (as hubs continues to remind me). But still…I’m not sure inviting all the ants in Riverside into our apartment for a sugar-borax party is a good idea.

1) We don’t have a hose.

2) Preggo Mama and a million ants seems crowded.