The War of the Ants...

I'm home for the summer now which means every bug and piece of dirt I have willingly left behind for the past year has come crawling back to me. Literally. I returned home to an infestation of ants. Oh yes. You know the ones I'm talking about. The really little ones that climb all over and in everything you left out on the counter. Yep. Hate them. This morning I woke up to get ready for work and took the dogs out before I did anything else. Fed them, got them water, gave them their pills, and all that jazz. The 2 big dogs stay out in the garage and Guido (my Jack Russell) eats his food inside. One would think that ants are more likely to go in their dishes because they're more exposed to the elements, right? Wrong. I walk inside to find his dish swarming with ants. And not only was his dish swarming with ants, but there was a whole line of them going from the wall to his dish looking like a busy interstate. So then not only did I have to clean it up, but as soon as I picked it up, I became their newest adventure. Not cool. I literally had ants in my pants. And my shirt. All within the first 10 minutes of my day. But I soon would have my revenge. I drowned all the ones still on his bowl, (sounds mean, but you would have done the same thing) and now that I was swarming with them, I began crushing them. One by one they fell. And one by one I showed them who had the upper hand. Literally.