It’s probably no surprise to you that I’m a wuss.

Walked into my kitchen this afternoon to discover that the mug which I had used last night for my pre-sleep milo was covered in ants. Pants. Dropped the mug in the sink and swam the ants away. Felt bad for the ants.

This afternoon I found an ant bait station in the cupboard with a top-up bottle, so put the station on the bench, topped up the juice and left it to do its thing. Forgot about it. These things don’t even work. Right?

Walked into the kitchen tonight to find the bench fair teeming with ants. Sure, there were lots of dead ants around the bait, but there were lots more ants that couldn’t make it close. What to do?

I should confess at this point that I’m a bit of a scardy-cat when it comes to creepy crawleys (of any shape, size or threat). Moths, cockroaches, flies, ants. I don’t much like them being around me when they’re alive, and I don’t much like them when they’re dead either. Outside, fine. But not in my house.

So, I reached for the trusty can of flyspray. Death in a can.

More effective than I even hoped. The problem not that I have dead (and dying) ants everywhere (and lots more dead under the “cookmate” and under the microwave. What to do? 
Apologies to my fellow cloister residents for the 9.30pm vacuuming. My bench is now, finally, clean.
Years ago, while flicking through the dictionary, I discovered a cool word. Formication. It was a word that I have taken great delight in using over the years as it regularly comes in useful. Sometimes to shock, sometimes to impress.
Only problem is that it is now a very real reality for me. No longer just a word.
“Sensation as of ants walking over the skin.”

One thought on “Anticide/Formication

  1. The actual plasticky bait station thingy isn't very good, you would have been better off using an upside down jar lid or something. The point of that raid stuff is so that some of the ants take the bait back to the nest and kill their friends. I like that sort of revenge.

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