On Preferring The Nuke-Resistant Roaches.

So a while ago we had an ant problem going on in our kitchen. Not really surprising, considering the amount of food waste and dishes a 5 (14, if you count the 5 dogs, 2 mice, and 2 cats.) member family plus any number of visitors can accumulate on the kitchen counter in one day. It sucks, but this is not something that surprises me. A little Windex on the counter, don't put your food down, problem solved.

But then they attacked the mouse cage next. Upstairs. They were stealing the mice food. Why? Why do desert ants need kernels of corn and alfalfa pellets?! I dumped out the food and the cage and took the mice with me up to Cedar for a couple of days, but my old girl, Lucy, ended up dying from this invasion. She was old and fat and unable to handle the multiple bites that ensued while she was trying to eat. Luckily, Alice and Miri seem to be a little more hardy. So I came home, cleaned off the dresser, sprayed some more Windex, put down ant bait, and built a moat for the cage. Yes, I'm just that handy.

Today I woke up, and found ants in the bathtub. Where I bathe.

IS NO PLACE SACRED?!?!