Friday, August 31, 2007

They're Baack!

Just when I think it's safe to go back into the kitchen, the little terrorists return. They invaded the one thing I really cared about this morning: my cereal. A brand new box! Of course, they weren't happy with just that- No, they sent another battalion to breach everything except the canned food. They're wily little things. They're probably working on weapons that will penetrate cans.

I can be a bit cranky when I'm hungry, plus I hadn't even had my coffee! I can only describe my reaction this morning as totally berserk. The ants ran when they saw my index finger poised to smash their little black butts. You'd better run, you little #$!%&#*. I confess that my language was less than lady-like. I have repented. I'll probably have to repent a thousand times more before noon.

These are obviously an Al-qANT cell or perhaps TalibANTS. Whoever they are, they are the enemy! This is all-out war. No more Ms. Nice Guy. Somebody is gonna die and it ain't gonna be me!

Does anyone have the telephone number for the U.S. Marines?

Friday, August 24, 2007

An Invasion

I’ve been fighting ants all summer. My victories are few and temporary. I kill a million, two million more show up. Another million stands ready to give their lives for a cookie crumb. I’ve used poison in liquids and granules, Windex and hairspray. Ants are an insidious enemy.

Some days I acknowledge that I’ve been out-numbered and perhaps, out-smarted. I've considered moving and letting the ants just have the house! But I refuse to leave without a fight.

I discovered a syrupy liquid poison that the ants are attracted to. They cover their bodies with the syrup and return to their colonies as suicide bombers. This stuff must be some kind of "ant-crack" because they swarmed over it for a couple of days like they’d found Nirvana and disappeared for an entire week. I’d won!

They’re back. I’ve begun smashing them with my fingers and shouting, "Tell your friends!" I’m leaving their pathetic little corpses right where they’ve died so that new recruits might be frightened away. They’re not. They’re sending more battalions and using different points of entry. I swear that they’re mocking me.

How many ants are there in the world anyway? If I’ve got this many then they must be crossing borders to get here. Illegal immigrANTS? I’m certainly suspicious.

I’ll bet if ants were invading Congress or the White House this problem would cease! Then again, P.E.T.A.(People for the Ethical Treatment of Ants) would be marching in the streets defending the Ant's rights to receive government sugar subsidies.

While I admire these insects their tenacious work ethic, I’d admire it more if they worked somewhere else. Like maybe at your house.

When my granddaughter was three years old she met me at the door.
"Mimi," her voice grave, "We’ve got Damn Ants."

I know that species well. I’ve got all their illegitimate relatives.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

It Begins . . .

I can't imagine that anyone is interested in the stuff I'm thinking, yet here you are!
It's probably not safe for the moron driver or the shopper ahead of me to know my thoughts. (I think they're related. Not to me. To each other. On my brother’s side.)
In a really dicey situation there may be a bit of cursing in my thinking chamber. And don't get me started on the voices!
So, I'll wander through the nether regions of my gray matter (What's the matter? Nothing, what's the matter with you?) If I trip over any bits of wisdom I'll let you know. It's quite likely that I'll let you know anyway, regardless of quality. You'll need to decide which ones you want.
I can't do everything. I'm not your maid.