Houston, we have an ant problem.
I knew to expect bugs here in Florida and we have actually
been lucky with the lack of spiders or roaches that have appeared in our
house.
But these “ghost” or “sugar” ants have turned out to be
harder to kill than *insert over-used
actor’s name*’s career.
It all began shortly after we moved in. We were just beginning to set things up when
Joe first noticed ants on the kitchen counters.
At first we figured it was just one or two passing by. But once we started to see regular commuters,
we realized something would have to be done.
It was our very first real homeowner problem.
So Joe looked up exterminators and found one he liked called
“Good News Pest Control” and booked them.
Fortunately, at the time, I was working from home so I would be able to
be there for them when they arrived.
Much to my surprise, when the truck pulled up, a woman hopped out. I’m not sexist or anything, but when you
imagine an exterminator you think of either a big hulking rotund guy or a teeny
geeky pipsqueak. She looked to be about
40ish with long braided blonde hair and a lean physique.
She came in and after a few pleasant exchanges, I showed her
where we were seeing the ants.
“Oh yeah,” she said, “these are ghost ants. You often see them looking for water, so they
usually show up in bathrooms or kitchens,” she explained, showing me the
pinhole sized space the ants were coming from.
She then sprayed along the glass block and into every corner. Finally she put out some traps.
“These are all natural and will lure the ants out like
crazy, but don’t kill them. You want
them to take the food back with them to the queen. And besides, if you kill them, the queen will
only send more and to other places in your house.”
I was impressed. I
was getting a lesson in entomology along with my extermination service. I asked more questions until eventually she
began simply telling me about herself and her job.
Then it got a little weird.
“That’s just the way Jesus Christ had it intended for
us. To follow in his light,” she said
with half her body inside the cabinet we keep our garbage bin. I nodded along in agreement, not really sure
what to say. I was a little thrown, but
she was still very nice and informative, so I just shrugged it off. If she’s happy in her faith and believes what
she believes, who am I to say anything?
As the year went by, we booked the “bug lady” to spray the
exterior of our house a few times to keep bugs away as a preventative and the
ant sightings ended.
Until about two months ago.
I began seeing them running through our dishwasher, in our
sink, and even in our bathroom. When I
began taking a double take at my moving quinoa, I knew it was time for another
spray inside, so we booked the bug lady again.
She arrived and began spraying around the kitchen and
bathroom, and once again we began chatting.
And this time, the discomfort factor went up a notch.
“Are you a believer in Jesus Christ?” she asked. Once again, I fumbled for the right words.
“Well, you know…I was raised Catholic…ummm…not really
practicing anymore…” I was stammering to explain my religious affiliation as I
straightened the pajamas that I was still wearing and tried to maintain my dignity.
“Well, you know…only when you accept Him as your supreme
savior will you find the everlasting light and love. It is only through him that we can achieve
total happiness for ourselves and for others,” she preached as she continued
her ant apocalypse. I couldn’t help but
be amazed at the irony.
So after she finished I thanked her profusely and saw her
out. After she left, I had a new queasy
feeling in my stomach. I’m still not
sure if it’s because I didn’t have a better answer to her probing question or
that chances are I’ll have to see her again when the ants, one day, rise again.
