I’ve been poisoning the ants at work for some time. I can’t tell that there have been any long term effects. I KNOW Terro works, I’ve used it for years at home and recommended it to countless people. I have had to hear people groan that they’re only feeding them, because you don’t actually get the enjoyment of watching their little bodies keel over, as it is a bait- they carry it back to their Motherland to be put in the catacombs and clutches for the entire colony to divide and consume.

Socialism, I say.

So anyway, about a week ago, I had stuck some Eggos in the toaster and topped them with blueberries. One can’t have fresh blueberry waffles without whipped cream, so I was squirting it artfully around when I ran out.

You know what happens when you reach the end of a can of Redi Whip? I’ll tell you, it ain’t pretty. You don’t even get a warning. Everything is going fine, and then it suddenly isn’t. The little globs of cream shoot haphazardly all over the place. It was on the counter, in the sink, probably dripping off the cabinet. I had whipped cream dotting my arms, my shirt, my glasses. But I’m not one to let a little mess stand between me and breakfast. I went ahead and ate. When I took my plate to the sink several minutes later, I noticed a stray ant that had ventured down into the sink to investigate. I assumed he was a scout, like in the old days of the American Frontier- like Deets on Lonesome Dove. His job was to find water, the ant’s job was to find saccharine. I turned the water on with the intent of drowning him before he could summon his whole army, but he was too quick for me. He scampered up the side of the sink and was gone through a hairline crack before I could bat my eyes.

I washed up all my dishes and got the whipped cream wiped off all the surfaces.

Some time later, I was back in the kitchen, and here are a herd of ants, congregated at the sink. They looked like they were having a conference, antennae waving. I dropped some goo in their path from whence they trooped, and watched.

I became concerned.

Obviously, one of the ants was the ant from earlier, probably pleading his case, waving his tiny arms around, indicating that there had indeed been glorious sticky puddles of sugar here, there, and everywhere, but mysteriously, now they were all gone without a trace. Had I inadvertently endangered this poor ant’s life by cleaning up what I saw as a mess, what he saw as livelihood? What would be his fate? Would they hang him from the gallows? Stone him on the courthouse steps with sand? Would it be OUR courthouse or did ants have an elaborate system of checks and balances like a democracy or were they ran by a monarch? Would they call “off with his head!!”???

This was all my fault.

And so I drowned the lot of them.

All for one, and justice for all. Or something like that.

😁