The last time I was home in Cincinnati I got reprimanded for not closing the sugar with the required clip, zip-top bag and jar. “The ants almost got it!” my mom said. I always thought I was fortunate not to have to worry about ants here. I wasn’t even sure there were London ants because I never saw one. Giant spiders? Yes. Giant buzzing bumblebees that fly through your window at 5 a.m. and wake you up because this crazy country does not understand the important of window screens, yes. But no ants … until today. Or rather a couple days ago. I noticed a few here and there, but ignored them. But when I heard Stephen quoting Stewie from Family Guy (“We are gonna have antsssss!”) earlier today, I knew we had a problem. They were everywhere — on the counter, scaling the fridge, rummaging around my makeshift stockpile above the oven. They had to go.
So I started researching how to kill ants. I bought some ant insecticide and sprayed it everywhere, and now my kitchen smells like a chemical war zone. I sprinkled corn meal on the counter because the Internet said ants like to eat it but then they drink water, the cornmeal swells, and they … explode. Then I did something bad — I started watching the ants and getting attached to them. Darn you, “A Bug’s Life” and “Antz!” I watched a little guy use his tiny hands to move a piece of corn meal around. I could just imagine the scene at the nest —
“Bill brought back some new food today.”
“Oh yeah? Is it good?”
“Well, Bruce ate some and then he exploded.”
“Sweet! Let me try some!”
I wanted to try the miraculous and mysterious borax solution my mom uses, but apparently borax is no longer available in the UK because it is “mildly toxic to children and pets if consumed.” .. aren’t most cleaning products? Is that a valid reason to ban products nowadays? Anyway, I also sprayed the counters with a vinegar cleaning solution and poured some Ajax near the crack where I think the ants are coming from. Hopefully one of these solutions will work and I will be able to walk into my kitchen without a gas mask by dinnertime.