The Ants Go Marching 100x100
My life revolves around bugs. The extent to which I think about, strategize against, and am tortured by bugs has increased 100 fold in a few short weeks. We saw a tailless whip scorpion in our sink. Ugly. But whatever. I'm no wimp. However, the mosquitos have our kids looking like intravenous drug users (combined with Lou's green-tinted hair from the pool, and she's really starting to look like a 90s club kid). They basically go to school in the jungle. And when we pull up to drop them off, entire extended families of mosquitos settle into our car for a roadtrip. Manley killed a freaking TARANTULA in our house and maybe got bitten by it and so now has a sore paw and is wearing a cone of shame. We are the foxes. They are the hunters. And the ants, OH MY GOD THE ANTS. There are tiny ants everywhere, and I don't mind them too much. But every night, the big fat ants invade our home and make us feel unwelcome. I bought a bunch of delicious bananas the other day. When we wo...