The Ant War

Every spring since we moved into our house, I have engaged in all-out warfare against invading ants. I loathe ants, especially in the kitchen. I have technology, they have numbers. I keep putting food in less and less accessible places, while they become more and more creative in their devastation. The battle rages for weeks until finally either I give up or they all die (either of poison or of cold in the fall).

This year, unfortunately, the ants have engaged a new ally on their side. Stuart loves small things. The other night, he saw an ant running across the kitchen floor. He was immediately in love. He informed me that it tickled when it walked on his hand. He named it "Black." He dropped little crumbs on the floor for it to eat.

Thankfully, Stuart goes to bed before I do. Thus, he will never know (at least, not this year) what violence lurks in his Daddy's heart as the Raid can is brought down from the highest shelf in the pantry. Good-bye and good riddance, "Black!"

--DJ