Death to a Worm

We have ants.  Or we had ants, those little teeny sugar ants that smell like windex when you squish 'em with your bare hands.  So, I put in a call to the pest people and because it was Memorial Day Weekend we had to wait the ever so long weekend to get the guy to come out.  Now, we have a regular guy who comes that we really like....but a different guy came this time and he was sizing up my cleaning skills as soon as he entered my kitchen.  Mind you, I have an almost brand new kitchen (praise God for the flood last year), so my kitchen can't look that dirty.  He was running his finger across the stove and saying things like...."Yep-ants might like just a little drop of butter from a pan you left here,", or "You need to take everything out of your pantries and wipe them down with a cleaning solution of half peroxide, half water".  WOAH!  Wait! What did he just say?  Does he know what I have to do every day?  I have to pick up after these three kids, bathe them, be extremely patient with them, do their laundry, drive them places, feed them, wipe their butts, wipe their snots, wipe them in general, read them books after books, pretend I like to pretend, keep them alive and keep their daddy happy.  AND my pilates instructor wants me to do heel-toe slides, bent knee fall-outs and arm arcs every day.  I decided right then and there that the man did not have kids. 

I quietly watched as he set up all his bait traps and gel baited my kitchen; then I watched the ants come out of hiding and march along the cabinets, walls and molding to take part in the dying process.  This started James' fascination with bugs.  Did I mention we were having company for dinner that evening?  Wonderful.  We can all watch the death march. 

Upon exiting, the bug guy quietly made his way to the door and said he had just painted the room for his firstborn child coming this October. I smiled, mainly because I love to be right when I size people up and told him his world was about to be rocked, to be changed for the better. He asked how so.  I said, "You will realize just how selfish you have been your whole life".

Continuing with the theme, James decided he would "take in" a worm as a pet (thank you Kat and Suneigh for the most excellent idea!).  He dug and dug and dug a hole right in the middle of my front lawn and finally found his worm friend.  Next, he rummaged through the giant blue recycling bin, found an empty salad container, filled it with dirt, attempted to poke holes in the top (with a butter knife), and quite proudly showed me his new worm home and pet worm named "Charlie".  Well, I didn't know worms could die in just a few short hours if it's too hot and dry.  I missed that part in biology.  I thought they just needed dirt to live.  Well, sweet James kept trying to bring the worm inside and he would say, "Mom, he's just resting..."  Well, resting he was, because we killed him.  Rich got home and pronounced him dead.  And here we are having a funeral for him and laying him back into the garden from whence he came. 

To top it all off, we are trying to get rid of ringworm in our household.  We keep passing it back and forth, one to another. So when you see us, please don't touch us.  Have a blessed evening and I hope you sleep soundly thinking about all the creepy crawlies!