I’m an environmentalist. Had not washed my car in months. People write “Dirty Girl” on the dust, which actually pleased me.
Then, I used a tad of H20 to wipe the soot. Therefore, whether you blame or praise me, I obviously caused not only the rain but with it…yes, the ants are back in my powder room.
I believe in gentle persuasion to dissuade them. I use organic substances. Nothing toxic enters my domain except for my neighbor, Yenta the Gossip. I do not want to harm the little buggers created by Mother Nature (Yenta is another story). I just want to give them a ticket to ride.
As a suggested remedy, I used bay leaves, vinegar, and coffee grinds. They made a salad and itsy bitsy cappuccinos. Now they email friends that mine is a good place to meet for veggies and java. They even liked me on their Facebook page.
Why do they congregate around the shower water faucet? Do they have a cleanliness obsession?
When I sprayed them with a non-harmful window cleanser I received a note of thanks. It cleaned their bifocals.
I shouted, “This is my home!” The rule is clearly stated on my front door, “Call before knocking under penalty of pummeling by a flamenco dancer.” Holding their ears, they giggle and continue to multiply. I left birth control books by the tub, which they ignore. Perhaps they have a religious objection.
No reasoning with them. They gave me a smart-ass answers. I responded, “Yes, while I could deduct them as dependents on my tax returns” as they suggest, they have to leave because of my “one house one person” rental contract.”
Last night I thought I found a solution. I lit candles, turned on soft jazz and gathered them together. In my most sultry voice I then asked for “a commitment.” They immediately disappeared.
This morning I received their text. “VE WILL BE BOCK!
P.S. Janny, you are out of toilet paper.”
— Jan Marshall
Jan Marshall is an author and newspaper columnist.