Ants In My Pants

Warning: Contains violence/intent of violence against mosquitos, ants, and construction workers. This is a full-on rant, read at your own risk.

There are literally ants in my pants. They’ve made our lives a living hell these last couple of months. They’re everywhere! Like the scarabs from The Mummy, I feel like they’re running all over me, and will gradually submerge me whole and drag me down to the pits of Hell, otherwise known as their nest.

That creepy crawly feeling you get when you have a fly-away hair that lightly feathers your face again and again and again is so frustrating. And that’s how I feel all day, thanks to these ants, and my untamable hair!

I have this habit, or maybe it’s more like a trait, that I’m very sensitive to even the lightest things that touch my body. I can only wear cotton clothes, synthetic fibres are too itchy for me. That label on the back of tee shirts cuts into my back and my mother always removes them meticulously. She doesn’t cut them, because the remaining stub irritates me even more. She de-threads it and takes it off altogether! One tiny stitch or wayward sequins can make my life hell.

I blame all this sensitivity on my dad, since he has all these problems too. It’s shocking how even the littlest things are passed down from generation to generation. (Fun fact: my 17-month old niece has the same problem).

Anyway, even while I’m sleeping and a mosquito lands on my arm, I’m somehow subconsciously aware of it. When I fully wake up a few seconds later, guess where the ill-fated vector is? Pinched and squashed between my thumb and forefinger! I don’t know how, but it’s happened several times that I wake up with a dead mosquito in my hand in the middle of the night. Ninja reflexes? Overly alert subconscious? Whatever it is, it’s pretty useful! I, being the mildly disgusting non-girly girl that I am, wipe my hand on the sheets and go back to sleep. Amazing, no?

Back to the ant problem, like I said before, they’re everywhere. They aren’t only attracted to sweets and starches, no, they’re even in the water jugs on our kitchen shelf and on freshly-washed dishes. And of all places, my house! Which is so clean that it’s almost sterile. We wipe the shelves with detergent five times a day, but they’re still there!

Hence began a full day of researching online about these pesky little blighters and how we can get rid of them. Here’s what I found:

They’re called Pharoah Ants because it’s thought that they were one of the seven insect epidemics of Egypt. They’re ancient evils, the buggers…

Monomorium pharaonis: The 2mm monsters invading my home

They’re extremely hard to kill. To get rid of them completely, we have to find their nest. Treasure hunt, anyone?

They invade indoors only if their natural habitat is destroyed. And this little fact made me want to kill the man who’s constructing a house on the previously wild plot of land opposite our house!

Returning to my dilemma, these ants are ruthless! They don’t leave anything alone, not even people. Spend a few minutes in the kitchen, and they’re four or five on your arms. Relax on the couch, they’re roaming over your feet. Sit on the toilet, they’re on your thighs. Come on! Can’t a person pee in peace?

Ant-killing powder, check. Vinegar-filled spray bottles, check. Bait food, check. Salt water in a bucket, check. Now all I have to do is set up traps, spray the shelves, wipe the floor and find the god-damn nest!

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