When we bought our cute 100 year-old home in 2007 we thought it was such a charming house. I do love our house, but the thing is a giant piece of swiss cheese. The money we pay to heat this place is appalling. That aside, the other problem is that it is virtually impossible to keep the outside out. That first summer in our home was blissful and ant free (of course the previous owner must have sprayed prior to selling). In late March 2008 I noticed the first few ants. I killed them, but a few days later there were a few more. It became a constant battle: PhinneyGirl vs. The Ants. As long as I kept the house clean and crumb/spill free, the ants were somewhat at bay, along with the help of a little borax, some ant traps and some chemical spray stuff. There was one horrifying incident that summer where my niece spilled watermelon juice on our rug and didn't tell anyone. A few days later we had a swarm of ants that were on par with a horror movie. Each year I have dreaded the spring/summer ant season. Just thinking about ants gives me that "bugs crawling on my skin" feeling.
Earlier this morning I plopped M2 down on the rug to play with her toys so mama could sit on the couch and enjoy her coffee. I went to pick up my mug from the side table and noticed a little black dot, moving. I didn't have my glasses on, so I leaned in a little closer. OMG! Ants. Lots and lots of ants crawling on the side table. Ewww!!! Something sweet must have spilled there recently. I grabbed my coffee mug, screamed, and ran to get my glasses. Upon further inspection I saw a few crawling around on the floor. Then I saw one crawling on M2's leg.
I promptly called Mr.P to whine about the ants. He said, "Don't worry, dear, the ants aren't going to kill you." I replied, "Nooo...but they will slowly make me go insane!" I have a call in to an eco-friendly pest control company. The guy is coming out to do a consultation tomorrow morning.
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