When Tom saw this folder laying on the counter this morning he asked “So where exactly is their place?”
Anywhere but here, my friend.
We’re having a problem with carpenter ants here for the second year in a row so I officially threw in the towel on home remedies for carpenter ants. They seem to laugh in the face of our store-bought ant baits. Sometimes I swear I can actually hear them laughing.
I called Orkin in to take care of the problem, because if I go through another summer of finding ants in our dishwasher I’m going to lose it.
The Orkin man’s arrival seemed to shed light on a personality trait that Tom was unaware that I had. Which is shocking to me because I’m historically very bad at hiding personality traits.
After they did their initial inspection of our house they went back out to their heavily branded ORKIN! TRUCK! (that’s how subtle it is) and strapped themselves into their giant, two-tank chemical backpacks. And as I watched them walk across the street from where they were parked I remarked to Tom “I bet our neighbors are looking out their windows right now asking themselves “What the hell do the Joneses have going on in their house?!?!””
To which he responded “Why do you think our neighbors would be thinking anything about us?”
Uh, hello. Of course our neighbors must think things about us. Surely I can’t be the only person in this neighborhood who’s nosy and prone to snap judgments based on what’s parked in front of people’s houses? And if I saw two guys walking into any of my neighbors houses all rigged up to look like The Ghostbusters, I’d be wondering what sort of scary creature lurked within their house to warrant a get-up like that.
Turns out, it could just be ants. So now I know.