Dare I Say It?

This morning I woke up to no sound of Michael stomping out some ants in the front door area and in the kitchen.  Just a quiet little house and nothing but some cinnamon dust on the floor from when Michael went out and then ran back in to get something when I got out of bed.

So dare I say it?  I don’t want to be prematurely happy about anything when it comes these pesky little ants, buuuuuut….(I whisper this) “I think we’ve won…”

I was talking to my friend and her husband tonight about it and they said that their mother had the same situation but with those tiny ants and they were always in her sugar jar.  She finally put full cinnamon sticks inside and then they disappeared and they never saw one ant after that.  Hopefully the powder will do the same trick.  But if that alone won’t do the trick, I read on some ant forums (oh yeah, it’s a whole big thing on the Interweb that could possibly rival the number of Star Wars forums out there) that spraying Windex on their pathway will help screw up their sense of direction and they won’t know which way to walk because it covers the scent of the urine (ewww!) that they use to let the guy behind him know where to go.  With friends like that…

Since I didn’t have any Windex in the house (I just use vinegar or rubbing alcohol and water on my windows and glass) I went to the next best thing and used up the rest of my Febreze that has been staring at me since we have moved.  I dropped it all over the back lanai down their “path” and hopefully the potpourri scent will screw them all kinds of up and they will end up marching right into the pool.  Oops wrong turn!

My disdain for these things doesn’t make me come across as a serial killer psychopath right?  I’m not like a squirrel shooting bbgun holding weirdo.  That’s just crazy.  But cinnamon…ing some ants that threaten to eat me out of house and home?  I’m down with it.

Tonight though we are going to start the repairs back up on the house.  We had to take a little breather after the kids end of school party because basically it taught us that it probably – no, wait – most definitely is not the best thing to agree to host after being in your new home for only 2 short months.  In short – we are both no longer 20 and we are beat.

So we rest.  Until tonight.  When we shall dust off our work shorts and get back into some spackling.  Tackle some spackle as only I they say. ImageImageImageImageImage

This is work that can only get done after the kids get to bed.  The temptation to tag the walls with “Kiddo #1 Wuz Here 2012!” or “Kid 2 In Da Hizzow!” would be too great for them to conquer I fear.  So sleep little babies and hopefully tomorrow they can help with the fun and easy stuff a.k.a. painting.

Are any of you out there tackling any spackling as of late?  Share your stories.

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