Busy Like...ants.

Dear Morgi3,

I have not been keeping up. 4th of July has come and gone and I, have not posted anything about it. Nothing. Well, I did on facebook. But, why you may wonder, have I not blogged? This past week, well, it's been very, veerrryyy....long. It all started because, looking back now, it's kinda funny actually. But it started because of...of....don't laugh...just yet.....because of, ants. You see,...well, it went a little like a mouse and a cookie. It unraveled a little like, this:

It's roughly 1:30am and I'm just getting into bed. 24 got a lot of viewing time that night. As I got situated in bed, 1 light was still on in the room and Taylor asked me to turn it off. (I never understood this because, our beds our equally positioned next to the lamp, but somehow it's always my nightly task;) I proceeded obediently and rolled over to reach the switch. As my arm made it's way to the switch I saw it just then. The big tiny problem.

The. ant.

There he was crawling around the bedside table minding his own little icky business. Now my business. Fact: I can not and do not go to sleep if there is any kind of insect or any nasty thing in my room that I do not wish to have snuggling in as I snooze. No. I automatically scan the table and see another pest on the clock, and another making it's way up a bucket. After spying another on the lamp itself, I was up. "Ew. Ew. Taylor. Oh my word. We have ants. Like, a lot(;) Ew". Now she was up to see the little devils. I begin scanning for the source and/or trail of the annoyances and discover about 20 more scattered about our back wall near the window. Sighing, I go downstairs to get the "pink spray". Our go-to windex replacement solution. A mixture high in ammonia can do many tasks. Like be the murderer of 1:30 AM ants. After the slaughtering of the 20 insight, we get back in bed. Not sure we had an all clear yet, I cautiously do a once over of the room. I spotted something above Taylor's bed in the corner where the wall meets the ceiling. It looked like a dime sized spider. "Wait, what is that?" I slowly asked, not taking my eyes off of the odd spot. She stood up her bed and looked close. Using her ipod for light, she replied, "Um,....I believe it's ants. A cluster of them." There was literally a cluster, a bunch of ants crawling over each other right above her head! Gag! The strong smell of ammonia soon filled the room. That thing, gone. I search more. I find more. We uncovered at least 4-6 more of these disgusting clusters. 1 hour later, our curtains are gone, banished to a steaming load in the laundry, all the lights are now on in the room, and all clusters are gone. Totally tired, we get back in bed. But,that "you're forgetting something" feeling kicked in and I had to keep searching. I glanced at the shutters and it clicked. I never even checked inside them. I go and open the shutters. Oh. Oh. Ants. Lots. Lots. And. LOTS. So many I wanted to be sick. All that came out was, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oooohhhhhhh my word. Taylor, Taylor. You do not want to see this. Quick, give me the pink spray!! Quick!" I furiously begin spraying and Taylor gets a towel to keep up the pink puddles I was filling with dead ants. (So nasty.) I replace the potent pink spray with the ferocious vacuum at now, 2:30 AM. The other half of the shutters are blocked for accessibility by my bed. I just had to get in there to investigate and exterminate. "Uh, I need to just pull my bed back real quick to get back there, then I think we're done." I go to the footboard of the sleigh bed and yank upwards. It budged a near hair. I kept trying. Taylor joined. Grasping the top corner, she pulled straight out. The sound following was so terrifying our reacting gasps should have woken many from a sound sleep. CRACK! went the wood. Gasp! went the dead daughters. To the floor crying with disbelieving laughter went the dead daughters. 5 minutes pass. We regain our breath and wipe the tears away. Remaining on the floor, we just sat there and stared and the sad bed. There it sat too. Well, hung slightly. Just the broken half. The footboard was still swaying a bit, not yet recovered from the trauma it just experienced. "What are we going to do?" I wearily wondered. I'm no carpenter but that bed, looked shot. The whole anchor and lock had been torn out and brought a fairly large hunk of wood with it. An ugly gash was now left and splinters littered the surrounding floor. I felt so bad. This very well made wood sleigh bed, along with it's twin, was purchased around the time we moved in. A short 10 year life. This bed was supposed to be in that adorable "grandkids room at Grandma's" in it's latter life. But it can't because, we killed it at 10. I had come to being an ant killer, but not a grandkids future bed murderer. No. That i'm not good with. We attempted to convince ourselves that it wasn't that bad. "We could fix this! Yeah, shove a little here, cram that a little there, and don't move. Yea......yeaaa, no."

3:00: Taylor and I are bravely at last in our (1 less than) beds, for the night. Not an ant in sight. Defeated. Both parties. Room slightly baron after the battle. Few linens survived. Laundry piles bigger downstairs. Vacuum at shot gun. Pink spray near. The aroma of ammonia still lingering. And sadly, only 1 bed submerged, unharmed. I finally and now very slowly rolled over in my war beaten bed, and switched the lamp light, to off. Room dark, at last. It just took a little while to accomplish that.

I don't think I ever moved in my sleep that night. I awoke late the next morning, thankfully with my bed still intact. And then fear donned on Taylor and I. We had to go and bravely brake the news to Mom. *cringe*. We knew the consequences were high. Mom would have to come upstairs to see the poor sleigh and then, reorganize the entire upstairs. You see, we all have always had a certain childish fear in us. "Mom coming upstairs", is terrifying for some reason. It's often a threat. "Go clean up your room. If you don't, Mom is coming upstairs." *gasp* The moment a toe of Mom's grazes a stair, we scatter like, huh, ants. Thankfully we have 2 stair cases for that easy access emergency race to our rooms for the fastest cleaning up we can manage. Attempts to save your reputation of a clean room normally, fails. The thoroughness of Mom is remarkable. She can find anything and everything no matter how well you try to disguise that pile in the farthest darkest corner of your closet. She'll find it and you, are busted. I only hope this talent is genetic and I have received a grace of it. No really, sarcasm free. This talent is priceless and leaves you with a literally spotless, clutter free, well organized home. The journey and process is less than attractive and far, far from enjoyable, but the end of the tunnel is so rewarding.

With all that on my shoulders, I felt like a little kid again coming to mommy about a special item now, in 2. On my hands was the sake of everyone's day, room,....life.....oh,... I did a quick and sketchy run down of the story and exposed the bad bed news with the rip of the band aid. She wasn't exactly furious. Nor happy. Ticked.

1 week later:

All consequences were served and met. We have been cleaning every. single. day. We have turned into ants! We haven't left the house except for food, and Dad's work. We envy our neighbors through the slates of our sparkling shutters as they all head to the pool, the lake, the summer, the world. "Oh to just be tan," we all dreamingly sigh. I happily though, received my new headphones in the mail,

(Aren't they so cuuuuUte?!)

A lucky someone got to walk out of doors after battling a crowd of anxious hermit-tized siblings, to retrieve it!! *GaSp!! Out. side! In that sun thing!

The other day, I got to mix work with such creative entertainment and used my headphones while I vacuumed!

Huh? How bout that?! Jealous aren't cha?

In the glass half full, we all have clean, organized, enjoyably functional rooms again. Handy dandy Dad was able to fix my bed completely! Grandchildren memories, beds, antique, comfortable night's sleep, (etc!) has been saved! All thanks to Dad!:) We now do not have to buy a whole new bed!

We currently do not get that tingle up our spines when Mom ascends up the stairs. Psh. "Mom was upstairs? Oh. Ok." (Oh! Such confidence!)Yes, we are a few tons of toys less, some feelings were bruised along the way, and tears were shed but, we're all now, Happy. Content. Clean. And Organized.

(AND, ant free;)

(Oh, AND AND, we all have beds in 1 piece!)

Now back to summer? Please? Mom?

(I said the magic woOorrd;)