We had done away with the ants. I was a good thing all around. I was feeling accomplished for having done away with them. We even started to feel secure in our antlessness. As a result I took our little poison cards and threw them away. “If we don’t have ants, why do we need poison cards?” I thought to myself foolishly. We were care free and ant free. How could anything possibly go wrong? There were a few weeks of uneventfulness where I felt secure. There were no sightings. There were no ant related events in our household. I was content to rush about in a finals induced frenzy without worry.
Then H saw one. Then I saw one. Then one crawled onto my desk. I hate ants on my desk from way deep down in my ant hating place.
I got out the bottle of poison and cut up a coke can box and redistributed the poison. The ants swarmed onto the poison, although in much fewer numbers than the first attack. The most ants I ever saw at one time were limited to a group of seven. It was not like the great ant influx, thank goodness.
They are now gone again, but I know better than to be lulled into a false sense of security. They will come. They will always come. When they decide to show their little anty heads again, I will be ready with some Terro ant poison and some cardboard, ready to take them on.