This is the purest definition of irony. I am a fervent animal rights proponent. I am a vegetarian (mostly pescatarian) and I have been one since high school. I am being tested with one moral dilemma after another. First with the damn squirrels. One was OK; their apparent 19 Kids and Counting-style voracious breeding in combination with our hill crumbling from their relentless tunneling was another thing entirely. I was at the point of going all Okie hillbilly on their asses when I came to my senses and had them enter the humane relocation program, but even that did not sit well with me. $400 later, yes, really, that’s how much that whole ordeal cost before the captain put his foot down and said, “No more! This is a potential nightmare. I am not going out to sea to support the critter control company!” Well, geez, tell me how you really feel.
And just this morning, I saw another one gaily strolling through the yard, bushy tail high and glossy in the sunlight, almost as if he was waving at me, “Thanks lady, more food for me! I’ll be moving in now, ciao!”
And if that wasn’t compelling enough to cause me to pause and think a bit, I have been infiltrated by ants. Ants in every room. Random ants. Ants in the upstairs bathroom. Ants in the hallway, ants in the kitchen, ants on the sofa. Ants in the freakin’ oven who somehow found the hidden brownies. Little soldiers marching on. I have taken all the pots and pans out of the cabinets. I have removed all the furniture in the family room. I moved the washer and dryer out from the walls to search behind them. I cannot for the life of me find an ingress, locate the breach, determine their origin. There is no clearcut path to follow with the ant spray, these are just random sightings that are driving me cray cray. I can’t rest for a minute. I am on high alert with the spray in one hand and my camping headlamp firmly affixed to my head like a Blair Waldorf headband (Gossip Girl random reference) in the other– in stealth mode, on my hands and knees, hugging the walls, carefully examining every inch of floor and wall. And what of karma? Me, the animal lover, gleefully murdering these creatures? Am I a hypocrite? Are the ants sending me a message?
I got the message. It’s time for some retail therapy. That’s the best solution for me. I need to take myself completely away from the situation. And maybe pick up a six-pack of Raid while I’m out…