Marching In
It's spring, and that means that Casa Mimilou has once again thrown open its doors to welcome its annual visitors.
The ants, they are back.
Okay, I stretched the truth a bit with that "welcome" reference. And as for the point of entry, it sure isn't the doors. We actually have no idea where the ants are gaining entrance. We do know, however, their favorite hangout spot: OUR KITCHEN COUNTERS.
(Insert full-body shudder.)
The exterminator has been out twice and has yet to staunch the flow. A third service call is forthcoming.
In the meantime, the junior critter control patrol is out in full swing. Their preferred method of intimidation is to squat down on the floor (oh, yes, the ants are there, too), put their faces thisclose to the invaders, and shout "BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
Not the most successful approach, granted, but it sure is funny to observe.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few more ants to squash.
It's spring, and that means that Casa Mimilou has once again thrown open its doors to welcome its annual visitors.
The ants, they are back.
Okay, I stretched the truth a bit with that "welcome" reference. And as for the point of entry, it sure isn't the doors. We actually have no idea where the ants are gaining entrance. We do know, however, their favorite hangout spot: OUR KITCHEN COUNTERS.
(Insert full-body shudder.)
The exterminator has been out twice and has yet to staunch the flow. A third service call is forthcoming.
In the meantime, the junior critter control patrol is out in full swing. Their preferred method of intimidation is to squat down on the floor (oh, yes, the ants are there, too), put their faces thisclose to the invaders, and shout "BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
Not the most successful approach, granted, but it sure is funny to observe.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few more ants to squash.