Two nights ago, Bart and I had a huge fight.
There was screaming and stomping and slamming of items on the kitchen counter. This went on for about twenty minutes until we realized that killing ants one at a time wasn’t going to do it. Also, could they even hear us yelling at them to get out of our house?
A fight wasn’t the solution, people. This needed to be a war.
We pulled out all the things in our cupboards, heaped them in a pile on our kitchen table and proceeded to wipe out and then spray all our cupboards.
I hope I’m not making it sound like our house is totally gross and overrun by ants – we probably only saw twenty at the most. But Bart and I are paranoid people, and we worried that for every one ant we saw, there might be a dozen more crawling in the dark recesses of our cupboards, scurrying over our cereal boxes (soon to be replaced with tupperware, because paranoia does not die as easily as ants).
An hour of work later, I think we have conquered the ants.
Also, our kitchen is very clean, now.