Recently, I've been thinking about trading in the cat. It's not that I don't like our cat. She's great despite living up to her name - Shenanigan - on a regular basis. It's just that I think one pet is enough, and I think we'd be better off with an anteater.
We've had an unusually rainy winter this year, and it has driven the ants inside our cozy home. I swear to you, we do the dishes and we keep the apartment clean. It's a small enough space that even I could keep it clean on my own, if need be. Despite ample soap and bleach, though, they come in through the cracks and form little ant highways across the floors and up the walls. I sometimes wonder if they're just using us to get to our neighbors upstairs. Part of me hopes so. I don't like them and their unneighborly-loud TV.
In the past few months, we've killed so many ants. Hundreds, perhaps thousands. And with each little black corpse that enters the trash, I feel a quiet fear in my heart that one day I'll wake up to find this in the kitchen: