As I watched the huge ants scramble all over the front seat of our car, I tried to remind myself that I love my husband. I needed to repeat that quite a bit to myself, as it was his fault that they were there in the first place.
You see, about six weeks ago, we bought Mr. P an ant farm. We have no pets, and I was interested to see the level of involvement from him. Granted, you can't really interact with ants the way you can a puppy, but it was just sort of a little test I wanted to conduct.
So, we sent in the little coupon for the ants, since when you buy the kit at Target, it obviously does not include live ants. We waited, and waited and waited, until finally they arrived about three days ago.
Why I thought we would be getting the type of ants that run around our yard, I'm not really sure. Dude, these ants are the kind that they used to use for horror movies. They have huge abdomens, huge heads and huge legs. Ok, the dang things are just huge. They sort of creep me out a little bit, but I was willing to suck it up for my son.
Especially when the first night, he "hugged" and "kissed" them goodnight. I tried to coo over them the way he does, but I can't quite bring myself to do it. The best I can do is to greet them heartily in the morning.
Anyhoo we were going to my sister's today for a Father's Day BBQ, and Mr. P insisted that we bring the ant farm to show everyone, including his little friend that would be there. I told Hubba-hubba that I would just hold the farm on my lap in the car on the way over and all would be well.
We hadn't even made it out of the driveway when I signaled to Hubba-hubba that I needed his help loading some things into the trunk. Ok, well, if signaling means screeching, "I only have so many hands" then yes, you could call it a signal.
Hubba-hubba gets out of the car, and shuts his door. Unbeknownst to me, he had wedged the farm against the windshield and the dashboard. Apparently, he needs to complete his certificate in wedging because down the farm fell, releasing all of the ants onto the passenger front seat. I didn't even know anything was amiss until I heard Mr. P yelling some combination of "Ants!" and "Out!" and "Crawling!"
The next thing I know I have been commanded to run into the house for some tape, and I see Hubba-hubba turned into some sort of demented ant wrangler, trying to catch them and throw them back into the farm. People, that's how big they are, that they can be caught and thrown, ok? But it was a Sisyphean task, as the top was open and they could just crawl out again.
Hubba-hubba is the only one laughing, of course because it had been his fault, and let me tell you, he would have done ZERO laughing if it had been Mr. P that dropped it. Finally, we think all of them have been caught, and the last two were just unluckily sentenced to death, because we just couldn't keep the top open any longer and expect to keep the majority inside.
Hubba-hubba proclaimed that all of them were accounted for. Ok, well, perhaps there were one or two still somewhere around, but darned if he could find them. Word to the wise, a black interior on your car doesn't help you one tiny bit when searching for ants. Just thought I'd pass that on. Hubba-hubba proceeded driving on to my sister's, not a care in the world.
And just laughed even more every time I jerked my foot off the floor, thinking there was an ant. Laughed even through the dirty looks from me and the threats that I would stick one down his pants if it was on me.
Can you feel the love?