It all started with the ants.
Ok, wait a sec. This is Sarah. Not the crazy psychopath in Marcus' Story. No, really. The story is here. The following is true, as hard as this may be to believe.
So let's try this again.
Ahem.
It all started with the ants.
They came traipsing into our living room, acting like they owned the place. Heck, maybe they really do own the place. Nevertheless, we're bigger than they are and so we will kill them and claim it as our own. So the ants came marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah and ate our crumbs and walked over our computer screens and infested our carpet and we all went marching down. To the end. Of the earth. To get out. Of the rain.
And finally Steven had enough. He figured out where they were getting in (a teeny tiny hole at the bottom of our balcony door) and we crammed it full of bay leaves. So that stopped them. For a while. Then they discovered the front door. They crawled up the outside wall (two stories, remember) across the hallway ceiling and down to our front door where they weaseled their way in. Persistent little buggers.
So again, Steven had enough. He went to Wal-Mart, the source of all things evil (like bug spray) and came home with ant poison in a convenient aerosol can. He sprayed. He sprayed and he sprayed some more. Ants died by the bajillion. Staggering, hands on hearts, dramatically exclaiming "Goodbye, cruel world" before falling belly-up to be swept up by our vacuum.
And the Curtis' rejoiced.
And celebrating our good fortune, we sprinkled bay leaves at the balcony door the discourage any new freeloaders.
And noticed the wasps. They were building a condo on our balcony ceiling. Swimming pool, fully furnished, pets extra.
"Call the landlord!" I yelled at Steven.
To which he replied, "Okay."
While he was thinking, "I can handle this."
So when I went to work he knocked it down with a broom handle.
To which the wasps replied, "Meh, we didn't like that house anyway."
Which is why there are approximately 2,334,813,907 wasps on the balcony now and they're building the playboy mansion, wasp-sized on the side of our place.
Poo on varmits. At least they're not spiders.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
eeek! intruders! I can't stand bugs inside the house either, and I've had flies here inside, like tons of them, like 10 badzillion babies were laid by some obviously fertile fly!!!
Hmmmmm, don't know about wasps, but if the ants come back, and you don't feel like killing more of them, sprinkling white pepper will keep them away. Just place it where they travel, much as you might have with the bay leaves.
Post a Comment