|Your party ends now you bastards! Photo credit: flickr user tarotastic|
I have a new goal in life - the utter obliteration of all ants! I declare war on you bastards and I will have my revenge! I swear it on all things I hold holy (punk rock, German beer, Irish whiskey, Lagrangian mechanics, Feynman diagrams and the Badger State)... there will be a reckoning.
So, as you may have figured out, we have an ant problem at my house. I believe we have what is known as a super colony living under our house. From April until October I battle the bastards. I am like the Father from A Christmas Story - I am one of the most feared ant fighters in southern Virginia and in the heat of battle I have woven more than one tapestry of obscenities that as far as we know is still hanging in space over Lake Michigan (or the Atlantic...).
|His nemesis: furnace. My nemesis: Ants!|
But I get to work, cleaning and killing. I feel no pity for them. I squish them. I spray them with cleaner. It is about 80 degrees in the house, because I turn off the A/C while we are at work, so I am sweating my ass off. LBS is still whining for his toy - I tell him [well growl is probably closer to the truth] to find a different car - you have 80 of them - and go play for 5 minutes. Then I check the toast - I burned it... RAWR! So annoyed. I put some new bread in and start it.
I then decide to check on the kids... Oh.My.God... I find Sweet Little Hellion in the living room sitting on the potty - no pullup on. OK. That seems ok - odd, since she hasn't used the little potty in a month - but fine. She pops up off the potty saying "I did it!" I clap. [wait for the cosmic bitch-slap back] She turns around, and she has diarrhea all down her backside...
|Oh yeah, potty training is all stickers, smiles, bunnies and bears. Photo credit: flicker user byte|
She points at the couch. I see a diarrhea laden pullup sitting on our cream couch. [I know... brilliant. We bought it before we were even married... idiot no kids couple we were.] LBS, the whole time is saying "Good job SLH, good job" and "She had to poop Dad" over and over. I yell at him to go in the man cave and leave me alone for a bit. [aren't I nice... UGH... really great parent sometimes... poor little guy - I made it up to him later and apologized...]
So, then I realize the SLH has poop all over her shorts. So, she must have pulled the diarrhea pullup off, placed it on the couch, then waddled with her shorts around her ankles across the room to sit on the potty... GREAT... naked diarrhea butt hanging out walking over the living room carpet... JUST GREAT!
So I clean her up and get a pullup on her. I check the toast... BURNT AGAIN! At this point my head is really about to explode. So, before I unleash my berserker rage, I decide to let the kids play in the living room (I checked the floor - no obvious poop trail... luckily) while I change out of my work clothes into shorts and a tshirt.
I come down stairs and, luckily, Beautiful Wife has arrived home. She looks at me and I say "I need you take over with the kids." She takes the kids upstairs away from me. I make peanut butter sandwiches for dinner with oranges and peas [I sure know how to pair food, don't I?]. Then I finish murdering the ants, cleaning, sanitizing and chemically defending my home. After which, I drank a beer in silence in the kitchen by myself.
SUPER HAPPY FUN TIME!